


Learning Curve

by RuminantMonk



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuminantMonk/pseuds/RuminantMonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra and Asami learn how to navigate their new relationship and each other, and they find that it is anything but easy. Korra in particular discovers that there is a lot more to Asami than she'd expected. Explores the concept of queerness and the queer scene in Republic City. Consider this Avatar Korra's extended coming out party.</p><p>  <i>Asami realizes she should have helped Korra pace herself. The poor girl is clearly new to drinking and now the Avatar is slurring her words and being very public with her affections. Not that Asami minds, of course, and not that Canna & Lily's isn't a safe place to display or flaunt this show of intimacy, but Korra is now alternating between biting her on the shoulder and giggling like a teenager. Asami is also a little drunk herself and as a result, is thoroughly enjoying the attention being lavished on her, her sense of modesty having melted away three cocktails ago.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Night Out in Tongzhi

The Beifong twins are late. If this were any other night, Asami would be irritated, but tonight, she happens to have a fine drink in her hand, a talented bartender at her disposal, adequately moody lighting above her, and Korra at her side. Korra, who is currently sloshing around the contents of her drink, waterbending idly with a slow twirl of her index finger. Korra, who is pouting out of boredom. Korra, who happens to be wearing a fetching new dress.

So, tonight, though the Beifong brothers are late, Asami has not a complaint in the world.

She turns her head to look at Korra, really take her all in. The dress she wears is relatively modest, but it fits her better than any of her other dresses, clinging to certain curves while falling off others. Cut from drapey, silky fabric dyed a deep shade of blue that complements the earthy color of her skin. It is a more feminine look than what Asami is accustomed to seeing Korra wear (it had been a pleasant surprise when earlier tonight, she'd come stomping out of the room in said chosen outfit), but it suits her well. She drinks in her figure, allowing her eyes to travel from her bare shoulders down to the eye-shaped cutout at the small of her back. The slit teases a view of Korra's tanned skin, revealing the dip of her spine and just a hint of the landscape of muscle Asami knows lies hidden beneath the rest of the dress.

It is only a matter of time before looking leads to remembering which then rapidly snowballs into fantasizing.

Being with Korra is not what she'd expected. In bed, the Avatar is all sweet and shyness: tentative in her ministrations, hesitant in exploring the terrain of her body. Fortunately, Asami has endless reserves of enthusiasm that allow her to plow through Korra's nervousness. Her zeal matches Korra's talent for receiving, heated fervor further fanned when her efforts elicit those addictive reactions from Korra's voice and body. Asami is happy to answer unspoken demands, to fulfill the requests her lover is too embarrassed to articulate. And, she thinks, there is a special kind of pleasure to be had from reducing the Avatar to a helpless, blushing, moaning mess.

So, for now, Asami is confident and ardent where Korra is shy and tender. Deep down, she cherishes this gentle side to Korra, is grateful that she feels safe enough to express this level of care. It is a naked show of trust on her part, pardoning the pun. Still, their current dynamic is all very unexpected and Asami wonders what it would feel like to be taken and possessed by the Avatar. To be held at the mercy of power and to taste the kind of prowess she knows Korra to be capable of.

If she were being honest with herself, Asami would admit that these questions went well beyond the boundaries of curiosity, rather, have recently become a persistent, unshakeable obsession.

"Wing and Wei are here!"

Asami is snapped out of her reverie. She turns her head toward the approaching twin figures. She and Korra swivel on their stools and stand to greet them.

The brothers take turns stumbling over each other to apologize for their tardiness ( _So sorry, they've only been to Republic City a handful of times ... silly cab drivers are still getting used to maneuvering around street construction from the mecha battle -- not to mention, those new spirit vines, oh, also they almost got hit by a giant hedgehog spirit!_ ).

Korra waves away their apologies, playfully slugging Wing in the arm and slapping Wei on the shoulder. Asami flags down the hostess and the four are led away from the bar and to their reserved table deeper inside Kwong's main dining area.

\--

Over an hour later when the last of their dishes are being cleared away, Wei props his elbows on the empty tablecloth and leans forward, flashing the two women a coy smile.

"So, ladies," he looks from Korra to Asami, then back to his brother who is currently relaxed and sitting back into tufted leather of the booth, arms crossed over his chest. "Where can a guy go to find some guy-on-guy fun in this town?"

Korra nearly chokes on her now cold tea and Asami, ever calm and collected, pats her soundly on the back. At that moment, their server returns with a fresh tea caddy and begins refilling their cups. Korra takes this opportunity to stare at Wei, her eyebrow cocked so high that it almost disappears into her hairline.

As soon as the server leaves, "Wait, you --" she looks to Asami, then to Wei, then to Wing, then back to Wei. "You're--"

Wei nods, laughing.

"Then, what about --" Korra points to Wing.

The other twin holds up his hands. "No, no, not me. Just him."

Wei crosses his arms and grins good-naturedly. "Well? Now you know, so point me in the right direction. I want to have some fun tonight! I didn't come all the way out here just to take some lame spirit vine tour. I want to mingle with the locals."

Korra leans back and rubs her neck. This falls way beyond her area of expertise. "Oh. Well, honestly, I wouldn't know where ..."

Wei turns to Asami. "Come on, if she doesn't, you must! You're the savvy, cosmopolitan one."

"Hey!" Korra protests.

Asami considers him, taking a sip of tea to draw out the silence for as long as possible. All eyes are on her.

"Sure, I know of some places."

Though she pointedly avoids looking at Korra, she takes careful note of the look of surprise etched on her face, almost missing Wei's excited sky punching.

\--

Wing looks up at the glowing neon sign. It flickers red, buzzing softly with each flash.

"The Rooster-Bull? Seriously?"

Asami giggles. "I know. It's anything but subtle and all the more memorable for it."

In the cab ride over, Asami filled them all in on this particular slice of the city. They were in what was called the Tongzhi district, a tiny part of town that had been around since the very beginnings of Republic City back when it was just a fledgling town. It was now sandwiched between restaurant row and the large shopping district, tucked away into a single strip of land dotted with clubs, bars, and dance halls frequented by citizens who preferred the company of the same sex. Never stigmatized, though not exactly talked about, the neighborhood and residing community were easy to find for those who happened to know the right people.

Seeing the look of impatience on Wei's face, Asami leads the group towards the club, stopping when they are met face-to-face with an enormous, muscled bouncer standing between them and a large wooden door branded with the silhouette of a proud rooster-bull. He looks like a member of the Terra Triad, one of their intimidating enforcers, with the sleeves of his suit ripped off to reveal impressive, tattooed biceps. His ears and broken nose are pierced and decorated with several golden hoops of varying sizes and gauges. The bouncer looks them over with a frown, pausing briefly at the sight of Korra. The faintest hint of shock registers in his heavy eyebrows at the moment of recognition, and all the Avatar can do is grin stupidly up at him before promptly ducking behind Asami.

Seeing Asami take Korra's hand, the bouncer opens the large wooden doors to let the group through. Wei winks at him on the way in, "Thanks, cutie." Wing groans.

Inside, it is dark, loud, and crowded. Lively jazz music emanates from a gigantic gilded gramophone next to a long mahogany bar. There are an impressive amount of men here of all ages: some grouped together and talking, others dancing cheek-to-cheek, and a few bold stragglers paired off along the back wall, locked in various states of embrace. They make their way over to the bar and try to squeeze in, Korra pouting and elbowing aggressively at the mostly male clientele until there's enough space for them all. Wei orders a glass of sake, then wastes no time in chatting up the bartender as soon as he's handed his drink.

After all their drink orders have filled (paid for by the Beifong brothers because _ladies please, it's the least they can do, think of it as thanks for the special Sato tour_ ), Asami turns to Wing to remark, "You're being an awfully good sport."

Wing shrugs. "I don't mind tagging along. Wei and I take turns picking where to go drinking, so tomorrow night I get to choose."

Wei swings around and chimes in, "Plus, he's the best _wing_ man a brother could have."

Korra guffaws at this and Asami rolls her eyes before planting a kiss on her cheek.

"It's true! So is Wei, for that matter. And anyway," Wing continues, "there always seem to be a few lovely ladies at these joints. They come along with their guy friends to have a good time and like that they don't have to worry about being bothered by creeps. And --"

Korra interrupts him, "And you're happy to creep on them since there's no competition?"

Asami elbows her.

"What? No, no, no! I just mean sometimes they end up alone at the end of the night when their friends have already gone home with other people, and I'm happy to oblige if they want some company." He huffs out a breath, blowing his cowlick up in the air. "And for your information, they usually come to me, not the other way around. ... I'm not a creep," he mumbles into his drink.

"Hi, there." Right on cue, a pretty, dark-haired woman appears at Wing's side, squeezing between him and his twin.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but are you guys twins? That's so cute!"

She isn't alone -- a tall, slender boy with strong shoulders and twinkling amber eyes appears behind her, happy to hover.

Wei takes notice. "Sure are!" he says, joining in on the conversation with an arm slung over Wing. "He's the best brother a guy could have, coming along with me to a bar like this even though he isn't --"

The girl turns to Wing. "You're not?"

"Nope."

The two of them start to chatter away with Wei excitedly talking up the girl's handsome male companion. Asami tugs gently on Korra's arm.

"Come on," she says, leading her away to an empty table and a set of chairs farther away from the boisterous gramophone and crowded bar.

They sit down.

"Well, tonight's definitely been educational," Korra says, glad she no longer has to yell over the noise.

"Oh yeah?" Asami takes a sip of her shochu cocktail, never looking away from Korra's gaze.

Korra hums in response, saying nothing more. They sit quietly, drinking in silence, content to let the brassy music and the murmur of baritone voices occupy and settle in the space between them. Asami reaches over the table and holds her hand, stroking a thumb over her knuckles. Korra blushes and looks down. "This is nice, though." Asami smiles and nods.

Korra loses track of how much time has passed, how many rounds the freshfaced, green-eyed waiter has made to collect their empty glasses and replace them with new ones. With a little liquid courage surging in her system, Korra moves her chair until it's right next to Asami's, turning to nuzzle her nose in the lovely bit of space between her neck and shoulder.

"Uh oh," Asami says abruptly. Korra pulls back, panicked a little. "What?"

"I think the Beifong charm has finally run out," she points toward the gramophone. The bartender from earlier has left his station behind the bar is now standing in front of him, shouting emphatically, interrupting what Asami can only assume was a private moment with the dark-haired girl. Wing has his hands up, vigorously shaking his head. He then points over to his twin who is now dancing and laughing with the golden-eyed boy from before. When the bartender starts stomping over to Wei, Asami decides it's time to leave.

After throwing down a generous amount of yuans on their table, Asami grabs Korra's hand and heads for the door.

"Have a good night!" she shouts, waving at the brothers with her free arm.

Korra laughs as Asami drags her out, "Yeah! Good luck!"

Once they're back on the street, Korra pulls Asami in for a much-needed kiss. She forgets how hard it is to stop once they've started and now that they're both a little tipsy, it's even more difficult to pull away. Korra can taste the faint hint of lemon and sharp liquor on her lips and tongue, and her head buzzes pleasantly. Asami pries their lips apart, gasping a little at the separation. In a voice husky and low and short of breath, she asks, "Where to next?"

Korra is about to say your place, your room, bed, now, right now, but then thinks about how they're standing on the sidewalk in the middle of someplace new and exciting. She looks around at their surroundings, eyes catching on the warm orange glow of hanging street lanterns, the charming little buildings with their faintly lit windows and doors painted in lively colors, and the twinkling string lights that hang between the lamp posts lining both sides of the street. Excitedly, she decides that she'd like to get to know more of Tongzhi and see where the night takes them. It is a special occasion after all, and she _is_ wearing a stupid, clingy dress that Asami seems to like.

"How about you take me someplace more appropriate for girls like us?"

Asami grins, "I know just the place."

\--

A few blocks down from The Rooster-Bull, they arrive in front of a small red building marked with an ornate brass sign that hangs over the doorway.

Korra reads the sign's engraved calligraphy aloud, "Canna & Lily's?" She pauses and Asami nods. "Like Canna lilies? Like the flower? What's so special about a flower that they'd name a bar after it?"

Asami smirks and watches her, bemused. She'll let Korra finish that thought on her own, content to watch the gears turning in her head. Korra will get there soon enough.

Korra's eyes widen and a deep red flush spreads across her cheeks.

"That! But! ... That's so!"

Asami can't stop laughing.

"That is just so -- are all of the bars in this neighborhood so obviously named?"

"Come on, Avatar, let's go inside."

Korra is still sputtering when Asami takes her hand and pulls her inside.

\--

When they step inside, Korra notices immediately that it's quite different from where they'd left Wing and Wei. The lighting is low, the music soft and dreamy, and the clientele -- well, the clientele is, for the most part, very pretty and very composed, the combined sounds of their conversations reaching a low murmur. Less boisterous and more intimate. Technically, she should feel more at ease here. It should also help that no one really seems to notice them, but it doesn't. Korra just feels even more self-conscious. She tugs at the high neck of her outfit and decides her dress is still clingy and her skin feels too hot and also, she has to pee.

She unlaces fingers from Asami. "I have to go to the bathroom." Asami points toward a narrow hallway at the back of the club.

"I'll get you a drink and wait for you at the bar -- what do you want?"

"Something cold and very strong," she says quickly, before heading toward the hallway as fast as she can, but not too fast, because she doesn't want the whole room to know how badly she has to pee. Her eyes dart around to see what kind of women frequent a place like this. She spots a gaggle of girls around her age sitting around a small table, laughing and talking about something or other. A few of them wear high-collared dresses trimmed in gold, sort of like the ones Asami favors, while others are dressed in simple blouses and tailored slacks. Farther out against the wall by the hallway, she spots a middle-aged couple -- one of them looks a little like Lin, with a handsome sort of face, while her companion resembles Kya, her face marked with laugh wrinkles and an easy smile. The one who looks like Kya notices her looking and flashes a friendly smile. Korra doesn't know what else to do except grin like a dope and quicken her pace.

She all but jogs to the end of the hallway and is relieved to find the bathroom door unlocked.

When she's done (for the love of Raava, how much had she drank that she needed to pee that much?), she washes her hands and notices two red flowers poking out of a ceramic vase on a small shelf by the sink. Crimson petals curve and flute out gracefully at the end of each stem and while she visually traces the shape of the blooms, Korra finds herself blushing.

( _Canna lilies, seriously._ )

She sighs and opens the door to head back to where Asami is waiting, looking forward to whatever cocktail Asami has decided to order for her.

As she exits the hallway and makes her way back to the main room of the club, Korra spots Asami sitting at the bar with her back turned, an empty stool to her right. A tall woman walks up behind her and helps herself to the empty seat by her side, _Korra's_ seat. As the woman begins talking to Asami, Korra sees that she's leaning in a little too close for her comfort.

Korra walks up behind them in time to hear the woman ask, "That drink for me, Sato?"

"No, that's for Korra." She turns in Korra's direction and the woman swivels around to follow her gaze.

"Korra, this is Ikkuma. Ikkuma, Avatar Korra."

Korra shakes the outstretched hand and shakes it, making sure to squeeze hard, _very_ hard. Ikkuma raises an eyebrow and tightens her grip, matching Korra's squeeze. Finally, they let go and Korra expects her to stand so that she can sit, you know, next to Asami, but instead, Ikkuma stays put.

"Now I see why you stopped calling me," Ikkuma says, coolly assessing Korra, her eyes looking her up and down.

Korra frowns. Ikkuma certainly is pretty, her face all angles with sharp, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. She's clearly Water Tribe, her skin a shade darker than Korra's with almond-shaped eyes that are a startlingly hue of blue, bright and pale like ice crystals, a stark contrast from the black of her pupils. Her eyes makes Korra think of the snow wolves that populate the South Pole forests. Ikkuma wears her wavy brown hair cropped short, with long thick tendrils framing her face in a diagonal sweep. She looks a lot like Tahno, actually, but somehow prettier (she didn't know this was possible), and the expression on her face is annoyingly smug, also like Tahno. Korra half-expects to be addressed as "Uhvatar," which would just, that would just be the irritating icing on the irritatingly attractive cake, really.

"Well, nice to meet you, Avatar," Ikkuma finally says. She gets up from her seat and Korra immediately sees that wow, this girl is _tall_. Way taller than Korra. Taller than Asami, even, and Asami is pretty damn tall herself. Ikkuma is, like, almost Mako-tall. Her frame is lanky, sinewy, also like Mako. It occurs to Korra that this girl, with her lithe, tall frame, would make a great probender.

Ikkuma smirks and lets Korra take her place next to Asami.

"Enjoy your night, Korra. You, too, Monkey-Lynx," she says as she strolls away.

Monkey-Lynx? Korra turns to Asami with a quizzical look on her face.

If Asami is bothered by this -- nickname, slur, whatever -- she sure isn't showing it.

"I was hoping we wouldn't run into anyone I know, but I guess it can't be helped." She takes a long sip of her drink, pinkie finger raised away from the stem. "I haven't been here in almost a year, but this town can be small and this district even smaller, so."

Asami is rambling and even though Korra has about a million questions swimming in her head along with a strange burning sensation coiling at the pit of her stomach, she simply presses a kiss to her cheek. Flustered Asami is a rare sight to behold and she's forgotten how totally cute it is.

Still ... "So, Monkey-Lynx, huh?"

Asami laughs nervously. "Please don't ask."

\--

Asami realizes she should have helped Korra pace herself. The poor girl is clearly new to drinking and now the Avatar is slurring her words and being very public with her affections. Not that Asami minds, of course, and not that Canna & Lily's isn't a safe place to display or flaunt this show of intimacy, but Korra is now alternating between biting her on the shoulder and giggling like a teenager. Asami is also a little drunk herself and as a result, is thoroughly enjoying the attention being lavished on her, her sense of modesty having melted away three cocktails ago. Still, the nagging, upstanding voice in her head manages to cut through the pleasurable haze to point out that at this rate, it will only be a matter of time before the Republic City police is called and the two of them will have to explain to Lin Beifong why they think public indecency laws don't apply to the Avatar and Future Industries CEO. Additionally, a more sound and apt argument: they can continue this elsewhere.

"Korra, let's go home."

"Yes! Yes, such a good idea." That last word is drawled out in a long slur of vowels.

Asami fishes out a stack of yuans from her and slams them on the bar. Why so forcefully, she has no idea, but there, that's a lot of money and she's just not going to count it because why should she? For most of her waking hours, she has to deal with pesky numbers and equations, so if she doesn't feel bothering with them now, who the hell's going to stop her? She doesn't owe numbers anything, except, she supposes, what's owed on her tab. She starts laughing, then Korra starts laughing, then she's dragging the both of them towards the exit.

They pass by Ikkuma, who is leaning against the far end of the bar closest to the exit. "Night, shorties." Korra stops in her tracks and shrugs off Asami's arm. She gets on her tiptoes and stabs a finger up in Ikkuma's face.

"You! Overgrown lychee tree! You, me, arm wrestling contest. Now!"

Ikkuma laughs, not out of mockery, but of bemusement.

Korra flexes her right arm. "Come on!"

"Korra!" Asami pulls at her, all but drags her stubborn girlfriend out the door. Luckily for her, Asami spots the headlights of a Cabbage Corps cab heading in their direction and flags it down.

Asami opens the passenger door and shoves Korra in.

"I could totally take Lady Tahno, no problem," she mumbles drunkenly, flexing both her arms this time.

Asami leans over to the cabbie. "Sato Mansion at 23 Sinsa Drive between Daechi and Irwon." The driver nods. If he recognizes either of them, he's choosing not to show it. Cab drivers, if nothing, are discreet.

Once the car starts moving, Asami leans over to Korra, buckling her seatbelt with a click, then sits back and fastens her own.

With arms outstretched, Korra lunges toward Asami, meaning to grab at her, but is yanked back by her seatbelt. Asami can't help but explode into laughter.

"Stupid seat belt, I don't need you." Korra attempts to break free, her clumsy fingers fumbling pathetically at the buckle.

"Korra, keep it on."

"Okay, seriously, the Avatar does not need a seat belt." Finally, she succeeds in undoing it. "Naga!" she shouts, "Naga! Can go faster than this cab she doesn't come with some silly belt thing."

Korra then climbs on top of her, maneuvering onto her lap, lips sealing over hers before Asami can protest. Asami sees their driver glancing nervously at them through his rearview mirror before looking away quickly, eyes back on the road. Suddenly, Korra's mouth is on her neck, kissing and nipping and tonguing her very sensitive skin.

The car makes a sharp right and Korra tumbles to the left, letting out a small yelp. Maybe it's the shochu speaking, but Asami decides she doesn't care that she's in rival company cab, doesn't worry about the driver divulging juicy details to his boss in hopes of getting a raise. She'll send him an expensive fruit basket the next day if she has to. Caution thrown to the wind, she undoes her own seatbelt with a sound snap and zip and falls on top of Korra's sprawled body, hands roaming all over the curves she'd been appreciating all evening.

Korra's hands tangle in her hair and she kisses her sloppily, hungrily. Asami gasps when she feels hands pulling roughly at her messy locks, her head yanked back. Korra sits up and pushes Asami flush against the car door, presses her body forcefully against hers as she begins kissing down her neckline. Asami wonders if the door is locked, but of course it's locked, why wouldn't it be, she just hopes these Cabbage cabs aren't built of cheap tin like their flimsy airships. Before her mind can wander deeper into design flaws and statistics, and before Korra's mouth can continue wandering farther down, the car comes to a stop.

"Uh, ma'am? Er, I mean, Misses? We're here."

Asami pushes Korra off and fumbles around in her purse for money. It's a wonder she even has any yuans left considering how much they'd spent tonight on drinks, but she finds a crumpled handful of bills and throws them over the frontside passenger seat.

"Keep the change!" she says cheerfully before exiting the vehicle. She hopes the amount is enough.

Korra has somehow already managed to open the door on her side despite an embarrassing lack of coordination. The two stumble up the long driveway leading up to the mansion.

\--

With the front door slammed and locked behind them, Korra turns away from Asami and lowers herself into a standing squat.

"Get on! I'll give you a free piggyback ride!"

Asami hops on and squeals when she feels herself being lifted into the air as Korra stands up effortlessly. Korra turns her head and asks loudly, drunkenly, "Where to?"

"Kitchen! I need water and so do you."

And they're off, Korra bolting forward like a crazed ostrich horse and Asami clinging onto her shoulders and neck for dear life.

When they reach the kitchen, Korra comes to an awkward halt and the abruptness causes Asami to teeter. When they realize they're about to tip over, they both scream in anticipation before tumbling down in a drunken, laughing heap of limbs. Korra sprawls out on her back as Asami slowly pries herself off the floor to fetch that water. She returns with two glasses of water, offering one to the still spreadeagle Korra.

"Here, drink as much as you can so you don't wake up tomorrow with a hangover from hell."

Korra sits up and gulps down half of it.

"Can we move this party over to the living room?" Asami asks. "I need to lay down on something soft."

Korra stands up with a groan and follows her down the long corridor to the living room. The Sato mansion is huge and they walk for what seems like forever. Korra enjoys the back view of Asami as they make their way down the corridor, shamelessly watching her hips sway gently from left to right. Stupid sexy Asami walking her sexy walk when she can barely keep her own heavy feet from dragging behind her like some platypus bear.

They finally reach the spacious living room and Asami slings off her heels, dropping them at the edge of the carpet that divides the space from the corridor's hardwood floor. Korra follows suit, pulling off her boots and tossing them near Asami's shoes. They land with an inelegant thud.

Asami saunters over to the chaise lounge over by the ceiling length window and lays herself down, stretching out her long legs, draping one relaxed arm over the raised back rest. She stays there for a minute, sighing in content, glass of water balanced on her belly. Then she sits up and places her glass on the windowsill, beckoning for Korra to join her. Korra approaches her and sits at the edge of the chaise by her feet. Asami takes Korra's nearly empty glass and sets it down on the ledge next to hers.

She leans back and motions for Korra to follow. "Come here."

Korra obliges, leaning over the length of her outstretched body. Asami wraps her arms around her neck, fingers toying with the soft tips of her hair. She pulls her in for a long kiss.

Asami comes up for air. "You looked beautiful tonight."

"Yeah?" Korra chases after her lips.

"Yeah."

"Did you have fun tonight?" Kiss.

"Mmhmm." Another kiss.

They continue like this, lips stopping and starting in short, sweet kisses. Tasting and nipping until it becomes more exploratory, less timid. Deep. Asami can feel the back of Korra's neck grow warm, so she pushes forward aggressively, tongue moving past teeth. Korra responds in kind until they're both reaching for each other, hungry and earnest.

Korra moves her lips down Asami's neck, biting and kissing along the way while her hands roams over her sides and down her hips. Head still swimming in alcohol, her wandering fingers bunch up the fabric of her dress, gathering it into her fist to hike it up her legs as smoothly as she can. She slides a hand up her calf, up the outside of her thigh.

"So," she breathes into her neck, moving her mouth up to her ear. She takes a lobe into teeth and nibbles gently. "Monkey-Lynx, huh?"

"What?" Asami doesn't understand why Korra is talking. Wants her to keep doing what she's doing without the interruption of words.

"Monkey-Lynx," Korra repeats, her voice teasing. "You wanna tell me what that's about?"

Asami tenses. With the flat of her palm, she pushes Korra back until they're face-to-face.

"Korra ..." she looks down.

"What?"

"Why would you ask about that right now?"

"I'm just curious. Should I not have asked?" She thinks her voice probably sounds a bit defensive.

"No, I mean it's okay for you to ask. It's just ..." Asami's brow furrows. She's not sure how to gauge this moment, as they're both still inebriated. She knows how conversations like this end, especially ones that have been soaking in alcohol before they even start. Still, the tone in Korra's voice bothers her and she wants to quash the cold thread of panic that's currently weaving through her stomach.

"Is this something you want to talk about right now?"

Korra shrugs. She's still straddling her, but her body language stiffens to match the tenor of her voice.

"I don't know. Is it something I _should_ want to talk about?" She's now crossing her arms.

Asami reaches out to place a hand on her forearm. Knowing Korra, she knows she must navigate this conversation with the right amount of caution and directness. It is a delicate balance to strike and though she's not in the right mind to know if she'll succeed, she's going to try anyway.

"Listen, if you really must know, Ikkuma is someone I saw for a bit well over a year ago. It wasn't anything serious."

The reassuring tone behind Asami's carefully chosen words is not lost on Korra, however drunk she may be. If anything, her intoxicated state only serves to amplify the underlying sentiment and she finds that she does not like what the other woman is insinuating. She hates being talked to like this, like her feelings are made of ceramic.

"It's fine if it was. I mean, even if it had been serious, it isn't any of my business, right?"

"Well, no, it's not, but what I'm trying to say is that --"

Even now, Asami finds it difficult to not be pragmatic in her wording.

"No, I get it. It makes sense. You're hot, she's hot. I was gone for a long time and you've had this whole life ... Anyway, there's clearly a lot about you that I didn't know. Don't know."

That stings a little. "Korra ..."

Korra tries not to look at the confused, open look on Asami's face. She pulls back until she's sitting at the edge of the chaise, her face turned away. She looks down at the floor.

"So, if it wasn't serious, then what was it?" she asks quietly.

Asami is silent.

"I mean, 'Monkey-Lynx.' I'm not stupid, I can put two and two together."

"Korra, what do you want me to say?"

It's Korra's turn to be silent. Asami can't read this particular brand of reticence, isn't used to this side of Korra, so she keeps talking.

"I'm with you now and that kind of history doesn't matter. It's in the past. You're the only person I want to be with and think about."

Korra knows Asami is being generous, but she isn't in the mood for charity. Pushing on feels right at this point, though she doesn't understand why, doesn't know why she's pursuing this line of thought or where her questions come from.

"Of course it matters! I mean, considering how we even know each other to begin with. You were with Mako, then I was with Mako, then you were with him again ..."

"Okay, sure, but none of that is relevant to what we are now even if it factored into us meeting each other. I haven't thought about that whole messy business with Mako in ages."

"Well, why not?" Korra's voice is raised by now. "Why wouldn't you think about it? Don't you ever wonder about what he and I had or what we did or why we even broke up--"

"Korra, stop. I don't want to know because I don't care. I don't see the point in torturing myself about those kinds of things because they're behind us and what we have now is more important."

Korra laughs bitterly. It is an ugly sound. "Then maybe you're wrong. You should want to know about all that stuff."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes!"

"Look, why are we even talking about Mako? I thought this was about Ikkuma." Now Asami is the one shouting.

"Because I want to know what it is you did with her! Or she did with you or whatever!"

"Why?"

"Because I just want to know!"

By this point, Asami is feeling the beginnings of a raging headache. Korra is not making any sense and she is just confused and exhausted. Not to mention really disappointed with how this night turned out.

"Fine. I was really looking forward to being alone with you all night, but since you're determined to sour it, I'll tell you. We met almost two years ago at that bar and fucked on and off for a few months. I cut it off about eight months ago because I didn't feel like seeing her anymore."

Korra's lips are drawn into a tight line as she processes this information.

"There, happy? Are you satisfied now that you know?"

Korra doesn't say anything.

"Do you somehow think less of me now that I've told you?" Asami asks quietly.

For a moment, it looks like Korra is about to cry and Asami feels her anger and frustration crumble the moment those blue eyes start to tremble. She reaches out to her, tries to take her hand into hers.

"Korra ..."

"Fuck this."

And with that, Korra stands up and marches toward the corridor. When Asami gets up to follow, Korra speeds up her walk into a light jog.

The front doors swing open violently, forced out with a vicious gust of airbending.

"Where are you going? Korra, stop!"

Behind her, Asami is pleading.

She runs faster, her bare feet slapping against the cold concrete of the driveway.

Asami shouts after her, "I don't understand! Why are you so mad?"

She freezes. Doesn't turn around. Stops to consider, because really, thinking about it now, she realizes that she genuinely doesn't know the answer to that question. "I don't know! I just am, okay?"

"Do you want me to feel bad for having slept with her?" The night air is chilly and Asami crosses her arms, hugging herself tightly. If she wasn't so confused right now, she'd be in tears.

"No! No, that's not it at all. I just, I don't know why I'm so upset. I just am."

Part of her is really exasperated. Korra understands that she's made herself tired and hurt Asami and all she wants to do is go back inside. If she turned around to look at her now, she could bet that whatever expression on Asami's face would garner an immediate surrender on her part. So she stays put with her back to Asami.

Asami's patience snaps. Her head is pounding and the spikes and drops of tonight's emotional rollercoaster have worn her nerves thin. Not to mention Korra won't even look at her. 

"Then maybe next time you could do me the favor of figuring out what it is that's making you so angry before you decide to yell at me."

Korra frowns and she feels anger bubble up inside of her all over again. Before she's consumed by the tidal wave of her own feelings and says anything else she knows she'll regret, she turns away from Asami and resumes walking.

Asami grabs her arm. Her hand is cold. "Please come back inside. We can talk more about this if that's you want! Just don't go. We've both had a lot to drink and I think if we just --"

Korra wrenches herself free and bends a burst of air under her feet, soaring farther out on the driveway to place an unfair amount of distance between them.

"Korra, wait! Please! At least come back in and take your shoes, it's freezing out!"

"Fuck my shoes!" By now, she's made it off the driveway and onto the pavement of the street that leads out from the mansion.

"Please don't leave!"

When Asami sees that Korra won't come back, she jumps inside the satomobile parked on the driveway. Hands shaking, she pops open the secret compartment below the dashboard and grabs the spare keys hidden inside. With a quick flick of her wrist, she turns on the ignition, the engine roaring to life. When she grasps the clutch, the car suddenly powers down. Korra has metalbent the key out of its place and it goes zooming through the sky, jangling loudly as it lands squarely in her palm. She crushes the key into a shapeless lump before flinging it onto the street.

As she glides out into the night, body propelled by an angry cyclone of her own making, Korra thinks she can hear Asami shouting her name one last time.

Korra has no idea why she is doing this but it's too late to turn back now.


	2. Of Food and Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fall is beautiful in Republic City. Korra consults the krew for advice.

A light slap across the cheek.

“Wakey, wakey, Avatar!” A voice booms in her ear and is punctuated by another slap that’s more like a hard pat, really.

Korra bolts upright. She's immediately greeted by a truly excruciating headache. The kind that sits behind the eyes and throbs heavily at a nauseating, steady pace.

She crinkles her eyes through the blinding sunlight and tries to identify the speaker behind the annoying voice.  Bolin stands in front of her wearing a smug grin on his face, his fists on propped on his hips.

Korra attempts to greet him, but her words come out more like an inarticulate strangled moan. “Uh, hey …”

She rubs the sleep from her eyes, groaning and stretching once the nasty morning crust on her lashes have been wiped away.  Her legs are tangled up in thin linen blankets on top of a roll-out tatami mat. Korra looks down at herself and squirms uncomfortably: she’s still wearing the dress from last night.  The night must have ended with her crashing at Mako and Bolin’s apartment downtown, though it's near impossible to remember the details of how exactly she got there.

“Good morning, Korra,”Mako’s voice croons out from the kitchen.  “It’s noon.”

His voice is accompanied by the watery rush of a running faucet and ceramic dishes chiming against each other. She must have slept through breakfast.

Bolin squats and plops down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder.  With a firm grip, he shakes her affectionately.

“Looks like _someone_ can’t handle her liquor.  Who knew that The Master of All Four Elements was a lightweight!”

Korra shrugs away from his grip, the rocking motion making her queasy.  “Bolin, stop. I’m going to throw up if you keep doing that.”  She covers her face and groans through her fingers.  “And I’ll waterbend it straight into your face, I swear.”

Bolin cringes and lets go.

“Hey, Korra!”A higher voice chimes in.  Opal hovers behind Bolin and waves a hand at her before joining them on the tatami mat.

“Hi, Opal.”It comes out muffled and miserable sounding, her face still hidden behind her hands.

“My brothers said you guys had quite a time last night.”Opal’s voice is teasing. “Though it sounds like things got pretty crazy after you and Asami ditched them.”

Korra finally pulls her face away from her hands, her memory jarred. The last thing she remembers –- Asami and kissing and then yelling and then her storming off …

A cold trickle of dread seeps through the back of her mind, made all the worse by the headache and nausea. She looks back and forth between Bolin and Opal, frantic. “Wait, what happened last night?  How did I get here?”

“You made a ruckus banging on our door at three in the morning is what happened,”Mako is now walking to the living room to join them, having finished washing dishes.  “Our neighbors almost called the police until I reminded them that I was the police.”

“Oh, yikes …”Korra is about to apologize when Mako cuts back in.

“You were …really out of it.  We couldn’t really make out what you were saying but you seemed upset –“

Bolin interrupts him. “Yeah, you were shouting and slurring ‘I could totally take her!’and ‘what’s the deal with Ikko-something’…and then a lot of ‘stupid Asami!’s and some stuff about monkeys, I think?  And then Mako convinced you to lay down and you just...”Bolin does a dramatic flop, bending over backwards onto the mat. “…completely passed out.”

"Did you and Asami have a fight?" Mako asks.

Korra stares at him, then at Bolin, then at Opal.  “Wow, um. …Yeah, after we left Wing and Wei, I kind of remember getting into it really bad with Asami. Then things get kind of fuzzy after that.”

All eyes are on her they look a little concerned.  Doing her best to dodge their stares, Korra instead scans the apartment, looking for physical damage.  At least she didn’t break anything.

“Anyway! Um,” Korra grimaces.  “I’m really sorry? And thanks.  I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“No problem.” Mako smiles at her.  “Do you want to wash up or something?”

Korra is grateful. “Could I?  That would be amazing.”The inside of her mouth tastes like something had died in it and her forehead feels greasy.  A hot shower would be the first step to getting rid of the feeling like she’d been trampled thoroughly by a sabertooth moose lion. Not that she didn’t deserve to feel awful, but –

“Okay, let me get you a towel.”  He walks to the hallway at the end of the living room, motioning for her to follow.

 As she trails after Mako, Korra pulls at the collar of her dress.  "Um, could I also borrow some of your clothes? I’m dying to get out of this thing."

 "Yeah, sure. I'll grab you some pants and an undershirt." Mako turns to smirk at her. "I guess it'll sort of be like old times."

Korra laughs nervously. "Ah, yeah, hm."

As she makes her way through the bathroom door, she hears Opal half-yell down the hallway, “Go ahead and use my toothbrush! It’s the one with the striped steel handle.”

“Yeah, Korra, you stink!  Your breath smells like a dragon that’s overdosed on swamp durians!”

She hears Opal slapping Bolin on the shoulder, giggling in spite of herself.

At least she won't have to use Mako's toothbrush.  It was something he'd always hated, anyway, the germaphobe.

 

\--

  

Once Korra’s freshened up and clad in a fresh white undershirt tucked into a pair of Mako’s slightly-too-big black slacks, they all decide to go on a walk together. It’s the first day of the weekend and everyone has the day off. Korra realizes it’s been a while since they’ve all been together like this, having drifted apart in the recent years, each of them pulled in different directions due to their newfound grown-up responsibilities. She can tell the others are thinking the same thing and smiles, happy that they all have this beautiful day to spend lazily with one another. 

Except, of course, something is missing, namely, someone: Asami.  And so, the anxiousness returns, throwing a chilly shadow over this otherwise calm and peaceful moment. 

Mako had suggested they have lunch together at Narook’s Noodles –it was now well past midday and everyone was hungry. _Also_ , he’d said, _they started serving this new dish that_ _’_ _s supposed to be perfect for hangover_ s.

As they walk through the parted indigo banners hanging over the doorway, Opal bumps Bolin playfully with her shoulder. “So, this is where you took Korra on a date, huh?”

Bolin laughs nervously before quickly recovering. In a dramatic voice and a sweep of his arm he says, “Ah, yes, many moons ago, this is where the Avatar and I shared our first, and _last,_ date before she dashed my young, innocent heart to pieces.”

Korra rolls her eyes and elbows Bolin square in the chest as Mako leads them to a table tucked into the far right corner of the restaurant.  It’s closets to the kitchen window where orders are placed and picked up.  Bolin and Opal sit on one side of the table, Mako and Korra across from them.

Someone comes by with glasses of water and teacups.  Their teacups are then filled one by one with steaming hot oolong tea poured from a simple metal pot.

“So, Korra,”Opal begins. “I was just wondering ... Do _all_ of your friends end up asking you out, or ...”

Korra nearly spits out her tea. Both Mako and Bolin cough awkwardly as she stares at Opal.

“Um, what?  I don’t, um. Well, firstly, I don’t have many friends and, uh, I don’t think --”she sputters.

Opal laughs. “Oh, okay, nevermind, I get it now.”

“What? What do you –“Korra blushes furiously before hiding behind her teacup, drinking in the hot tea all too quickly, scalding her throat.

Opal looks to Bolin. “Yup, pretty adorable. “Bolin can only answer with an awkward grin, showing far too many teeth.

She then turns to his brother. “Right, Mako?”

“Uh …”He then coughs loudly.

At that moment, their server returns to take their order.  Opal orders the seaweed noodles with mountain vegetables in mushroom broth, both brothers order kelp noodles with prawns and hot chili (spicy for Mako, mild for Bolin) and for Korra, Mako orders something called “Chaser Stew.” 

The server winks at Korra, her special order having no doubt clued him in to her sorry state. When he leaves, Mako turns to her.

"So, what happened with you and Asami last night?"

Korra stares into her half empty teacup guiltily. "Could we at least wait ‘til the food gets here?" Everyone looks at her expectantly. "No? Okay," she sighs.

"Last night after dinner, Asami took us to this little district after your brother --" she nods at Opal. "Asked us to take him to a, well, a --"

Opal waves her hand at Korra. "Oh, I know about that. You don't have to mince words. Wei said Asami took him to a charming little place called The Rooster-Bull."

"The what now?" Bolin cuts in.

"It's a man's man's bar, Bolin," Mako adds.

"What?"

"It's a place where men can meet other men, Bolin, you are so slow!" Korra says. "Wait, how do _you_ know about it?" She turns to Mako and raises an eyebrow.

"I know about the Tongzhi district, Korra.  Come on, I was born and raised in this city."

"Well, so was I, and I didn't know about it!" Bolin exclaims.  He pauses for a moment, his eyes squinting in thought. "Wait, so what is this place again?"

"Bolin, it's a neighborhood where people like Wei and _Korra_ ..." Opal makes an open curve with her right hand and one with her left hand. "And _Asami_." She connects the two hands to form a heart. "Can find more people like them."

Finally, realization dawns on his face. "Ohh! Okay, yes, yes, I see now. Hey, you never told me Wei was -- wait, Mako, how _do_ you know about it?"

Mako looks unperturbed. "Actually, I know about The Rooster-Bull because we've made a few busts there.  It's run by the Terra Triad, you know.  We’ve busted them for light stuff: after hours gambling, low level laundering, a couple of fist fights – mainly lovers’ quarrels – here and there," Mako says. 

"You took my baby brothers to a mob bar?" Opal looks to Korra accusingly.

"Well, it's not like I knew about it!  I didn't even know it existed until yesterday!" Korra says.

"I’m mostly kidding.  Wei probably would’ve found it on his own, anyhow. Those two have a knack for getting into trouble wherever they go.  Anyway, we're getting off track: you never told us what happened with Asami."

"Oh, well." Korra hides behind her tea cup, but by this point it's drained. "She took me to another bar and we ran into this girl that Asami had a history with ..." Her voice trails off and she looks around at her friends. Bolin is making an anxious face 

"When we got home I sort of started a fight about the girl and kind of stormed off. So, yeah."

"You just took off?" Opal looks at her sympathetically.

Korra sighs. "Yeah. I know I shouldn't have, but I was just really mad and – ugh!  I don't know really."

"About the other girl?" Mako asks.

"I'm not sure. Maybe?  I mean, sort of, yeah." Korra stops and looks around at everyone again. "Did you guys know that she'd been seeing other people before?"

"You mean while you were gone?" Mako asks.  Korra nods. "No, but we didn't exactly see each other that often."

Bolin nods. "Me neither. I only got to see Asami a few times and it was usually while I was on the road with Kuvira and she was expanding the rail system between towns."

"I knew." Everyone turns to look at Opal. "What? We talk sometimes. Plus, Jinora has a big mouth."

"So you know about Ikkuma then?" Korra asks her.

"Is that her name? I didn’t know any details, just that she'd been seeing a few people here and there, mostly women.  Jinora mentioned Asami had been dating someone up until last year ..." Opal looks thoughtful. "So, what was she like?”

"Wait, her name’s Ikkuma? Isn't she a probender?" Mako cuts in. "I think she plays for the Ice Orcas."

Korra groans. "Ugh, great, so she's a probender, too? It doesn't help that she's also totally gorgeous and prettier than Tahno and also really, _really_ tall!"

"If it makes you feel better, the Ice Orcas are terrible.  One of the worst rookie teams," Mako says.

"Actually, yeah, it kind of does make me feel better, tha –" Korra starts

Mako continues, "They wouldn't have even made it out of the minor circuit if it wasn't for Ikkuma. That team’s worthless without her.  It's probably why she's so cocky."

Korra glares at him. "Okay, nevermind, you suck, Mako."

"Yeah, you've never been good at the whole cheering up thing, bro," Bolin agrees. "But, sorry, Korra, this girl _does_ sound like an all-around babe."

"I know, right? Asami said it wasn't serious and I believe her, but still!  I know I should be more mature and less petty about these things, but it just bugs me that she had to pick basically the hottest waterbender in the city ..." Korra's voice gets wistful again.

"Oh, Korra, she just missed you," Opal says, her voice reassuring and soft. "Isn't it obvious? Water Tribe, confident, probender ... any of this sound familiar?"

Korra looks down. "Oh. I guess I didn't think about it that way."

Opal nods. "Asami's pretty private, but she mentioned to me that none of the girls she'd gone on dates with were doing it for her.  And that one she'd been seeing on the regular had a handsome face, but wasn't the sharpest rapidograph in the box."

"The what?" Bolin asks

Opal shrugs her shoulders

"She sounds like a dumb jock," Korra says bitterly.

"Maybe that's Asami's type."  Bolin leans back and look back and forth between Korra and Mako, a smug grin plastered on his face.

"Hey!" They protest in unison.  Opal and Bolin burst into laughter together.

Their server returns with their orders, all large, steaming porcelain bowls filled with thick, starchy noodles simmering in hearty soup.  This time, though, he’s accompanied by a portly middle-aged man wearing an apron, his salt and pepper hair pulled back into a ponytail. When the server leaves, the man introduces himself.

"Avatar Korra, I'm honored to have you and your friends here in my humble restaurant. It's a pleasure to meet you all, I'm Narook."

They all go around the table introducing themselves.

"I see you've ordered our new special!  Hold on one minute --"

Narook turns around and motions for one of the servers to bring him something. A woman brings him a small glass bottle filled with white liquid, along with a tiny silver bowl. He pours the bottle's milky white contents into the bowl and sets it in front of Korra, next to her food.

"Hair of the polar bear dog, as they say!"

Korra looks at her drink. "Oh, um, thank you."  Even though the idea of ingesting more alcohol at this point makes her a little sick, she needs to be polite.  She lifts the bowl to her lips with both hands and takes a sip. It's refreshing, cold, and pleasantly mild, sliding smoothly down her throat.  Not bad.

"I hope you enjoy your stew. It's something my son whipped up after marrying a Fire Nation gal."

"What's in it?" Korra looks curiously into the contents of her bowl.  The broth is startlingly red, making it stand out from the rest of the food on the table.

"Beef that falls right off the bone, cubes of fresh ox blood, tender squid, flowered egg, cabbage, fresh sprouts, plenty of spices and chili, and of course, our signature noodles." Narook smiles proudly. "My daughter-in-law can drink my son under the table so they created this recipe together. The egg, seafood, and handpulled noodles were my son's little twist on a Fire Nation refugee classic."

"Well, it looks amazing," Korra says. It's true. It also smells amazing – fragrant and savory, its heavy, spicy aroma wafting under her nose.

Narook takes a short bow before leaving the crew to their food. "I hope you enjoy it thoroughly."

Korra thanks him before digging in with her metal chopsticks. They all eat in silence, the sounds of noodle slurping, chewing, soup sipping, and occasional sigh of satisfaction all taking the place of words.

"This is really good. Thanks for bringing me here, Mako," Korra mumbles through a mouthful of noodles.

"No problem. I've got your back."

She scoops up a gelatinous blob of ox blood and jiggles the ruby red matter in her porcelain spoon. Opal watches with a queasy expression on her face.  When Korra notices, she sets her spoon back down into the murky broth.

"Sorry about that, Opal."

"It's okay! I’m used to worse with Bolin’s manners."

“Hey!” he says, a single noodle dangling from his pursed lips.  He sucks it up noisily, then turns to Korra.  "So, I don't get it, Korra.  Were you just jealous?"

"I don't know, honestly. Kind of. I'm still not sure why I flew off the handle like that, which is weird, but what’s weirder is that I'm still a little upset." She sets down her chopsticks and switches to her spoon, then ladles in some broth, blowing on it to cool it down. "But mostly, I feel like a total jerk taking off like that before we got to resolve things."

"Korra, you realize you're the _avatar_ , right? You've got no reason to be insecure!" Bolin says.

"That's ... not the issue. It's just that I was gone for so long and Asami was apparently dating a bunch of girls that I had no idea about --"

"You can't seriously have expected someone like Asami to stay single for three years," Mako says.

Korra shakes her head in frustration.  "No, of course not! That's not it at all. I don't know what it is, but I know that's not it."

"I think she was just lonely, Korra," Opal offers. "The reason she and Jinora ended up talking a lot was because she was over at Air Temple Island so often."

"She was?" Korra asks. This is new information to her.

Opal nods. "You know that she designed our glider suits, right?"

"I didn't know that, no, but I'm not surprised at all."  Even through the anxiety building in the pit of her stomach, Korra can feel a small swell pride bubble up beneath it.

"Yeah, so she over was there on business a lot, but I think it was an excuse for her to be close to you somehow.  Jinora even said they talked about you a lot," Opal says.

Korra is a little excited to hear about Asami thinking of her in her absence, though it's a little funny to imagine Asami conversing that much with a 14-year-old girl. For all of Jinora’s maturity, she can’t imagine what their chats must have been like – the image of a polite, but miserable Asami bearing through the preteen excitedly gush and agonize about Kai brings a smile to her lips.

"Sometimes I forget that even though she's a master airbending prodigy, she's still a teenage girl," Korra says.

"Yeah, she can't resist gossip! Anyway, Jinora said Asami also met pretty often with Tenzin and always made sure to check in with him to see how you were doing.  Because of how worried she was about you." Opal’s voice drops to a near whisper at that last bit.

"Don't remind me. I feel guilty enough as it is for being away so long, not to mention how I just dropped off the face of the earth for six months." Korra avoids Opal’s gaze. She fiddles with her food, poking at white curls of squid with her chopsticks as an awkward silence falls over the group.

"We were all worried, Korra," Mako says. "At least you wrote to Asami."

Bolin slams his hands down on the table. "You did?!  Hey! Why didn't you write me!"

Opal takes one of his hands in hers. "Stop it, silly. Anyway, Jinora knew about that, too. She said Asami cut things off with Ikkuma as soon as she got your letter."

Korra isn't sure if this makes her feel better or worse. "I see ..."

Mako places a hand gently on her shoulder.  "Korra, you know you don't owe anyone an explanation for being away, right? I think it's pretty safe to say we all understood that you needed to take your time."

Bolin nods solemnly. "We're just glad you're better now."

Korra manages a smile. "Thanks, guys. That means a lot, but I still hate that I missed _so_ of what went on in your lives ... I just … wish I could have been there."

"Have you tried telling Asami what you just told us?" Opal asks.

Korra frowns. "No, not exactly. I probably should, granted that she'll even talk to me after the way I ditched her last night."

Mako nods slowly, his eyebrow raised. "Yeah, she's probably going to be pretty mad."

Opal tilts her head at Mako questioningly. "She is? I don't think I've ever seen Asami mad before."

"Me neither, come to think of it," Bolin adds. "What even makes Asami Sato mad? It's probably a really short list, like, microscopic. 

"Especially compared to yours, Korra, which could fill a library," Mako says, smirking a little.

"Varrick ticks her off for sure," Opal notes.

Bolin nods his head vigorously. "Oh, yeah, yup.  That's true. Varrick told me that she almost broke his fingers once."  He grins widely. "He called her a fingerbender."

Opal snorts.

A busboy comes by to clear away their bowls and utensils and they all sit in silence until he's finished. Mako motions for a fresh pot of tea.

"Anyway, I've definitely seen her mad," Mako says, breaking the silence. "Was she mad last night?"

"No, that was mostly me." Korra feels like even more of a jerk now.

"Why are you so sure she'll be angry, Mako? I've always thought of her as the patient type," Opal says.

"Oh, she is, and forgiving, too, but leaving like that?  Come on, Korra. She hates it when people run away."

"Thanks, Mako," Korra says miserably.

"So, Asami hates cowards?" Bolin asks.

"In a manner of speaking," Mako replies.  "It's more that she can't stand dishonesty."

"But I wasn't being dishonest about anything!" Korra starts.

"No, but you weren't exactly being up front," Mako says.  "You remember what happened with the three of us way back when ..." It's Mako's turn to look awkward. He rubs the back of his neck.

"You mean when you were being a sneaky little fox bat and flirting with Korra when you were with Asami, and then not telling Korra that'd you'd broken up and kissing her right in front of Asami's face and –" Bolin is waggling his finger at his older brother.

Mako turns red and holds his hands up. "Yes, yes, okay, all of that!  She was mad as _hell_ when I didn't own up to any of that. And I totally deserved it.”

Korra sighs dramatically. "But what am I supposed to own up to? It's not like I did anything like that!"

"No, but you made her feel bad because you were feeling bad," Opal points out. "Instead of telling her what was upsetting you."

"But I don't know what's upsetting me!"  Korra is getting more and more frustrated at this point.

"Sure you do. You just said: 'I hate that I missed so much of what went on in your lives.' Right?" After this, Opal leans back and takes a sip of her tea, watching Korra over her cup.

Korra sits silently, thinking. Is that it? Is she still feeling guilty? She thought they'd worked past that, but maybe she was wrong.  "Okay, maybe you're right.  I should ... I should talk to her."

Mako nods. "Do it as soon as you can."

"Okay, I know that, thanks,” Korra says, her voice clipped.

"I’m just saying.  I'm guessing she's going to be really, really angry about you leaving in the middle of a fight like that."

"This again? Asami is so nice and doesn't hold grudges, especially not against _Korra,_ " Bolin butts in, signaling to Korra with both hands.

"Yeah, I agree. I'm sure if Korra apologizes, Asami will understand," Opal says.

Mako shrugs. "I’m not trying to be harsh, but I want to point out that you left her all alone. At least you got to wake up to a full house. Asami –"

Korra buries her face in her hands. "No, you're right, Mako. People leaving Asami is ..." Her breath hitches in her throat. "… I really am the worst. I have to talk to her."

It occurs to Korra that Mako has grown up a lot.  She normally wouldn’t have expected this level of insight to come from him, but, like everyone else, it was evident that the recent years had changed him.  And though her younger self would probably have felt threatened by this newfound sensitivity and understanding of Asami’s character, her current self is only grateful for it. He’s right.  Asami’s life, from the start, has been plagued with abandonment, some voluntary, some not.

She sits up straight and waves her hand to their server, miming a motion for the check. " Let's get out of here.  I'm going to try to call her."

The server returns with a slip of paper, which Korra promptly grabs from where it’s placed at the center of their table.  "Let me get this.  Thanks for talking to me about this, guys."

As they shuffle out from their booth one by one, Bolin slings an arm over Korra's shoulder.  "Cheer up! You'll be okay. If I can get Opal to forgive me for all that garbage with Kuvira, you'll have no problem convincing Asami to forgive you for being a cowardly, drunken flying lemur."

Korra rests her head affectionately on his shoulder, then pulls ahead to grab Mako by the arm. "Hey, do you think I could use the phone at the police station?  The local precinct has one close to here, right?"

Mako hesitates. "Um, it's only for emergencies and official police business ..."

"Mako, please?" She gives him the puppy pout, the one that Asami often uses to get her way, whether it’s for the last bite of ice cream or a few more minutes of sleep in the morning.

Mako takes one look at her wide blue eyes that resemble cartoonish watery saucers and her lower lip that's puffed out into a pitiful, quivering pout –

"Okay, fine." He turns away quickly, his face growing heated.

Korra punches the sky victoriously. "Yes! Still got it. Thank you thank you thank you!"

 

\--

 

Inside the police station, Mako, Bolin, and Opal stand outside the telegraph room to give Korra some privacy while she tries to reach Asami over at her estate.

Mako leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“So, Mako, is any of this weird for you at all?” Opal asks, curious.

Mako looks up at her.  “Not anymore, no. It was a little weird at first, though.”

“A little?” Bolin asks incredulously.  “You were totally flabbergasted!”  He turns to Opal and elbows her while pointing at his brother. “He was.  He was totally shocked.  Even Lin made fun of him for weeks after he found out.”

“I mean, yeah!  Of course I was!” Mako throws up his hands, then pinches the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.  “Wouldn’t you be?  Though I sort of suspected something was going on between them before it was official. But before that, I never would have guessed that Asami or Korra or both were, well, … you know what I mean!”

Opal rubs her chin thoughtfully.  “Oh, I don’t know about that.  They both always gave off vibes to me, though maybe Asami more so than Korra. But they make sense together, don’t they?”

“They’re perfect for each other!” Bolin gushes. “Sorry, no offense, bro.”

“None taken, I think.”  Mako stands up straight away from his position against the wall.

Bolin clasps his hands like a schoolgirl with a dreamy look on his face. “They’re almost too perfect. Korra’s so pretty and Asami is also _so_ pretty, but in a different way! Like Asami is tall and elegant and has long, pretty hair, and Korra’s smaller, but buff and that new haircut’s doing wonders for her.  Oh! And they’re both super tough and could totally kick anyone’s butt …”

Opal and Mako stare at him as his voice trails off, his eyes still staring off into the ether.

“What?” He asks innocently.

Opal grins and burrows her head into his shoulder.  “You’re such a goof.”

“Hey, did I ever tell you about that time I walked in on Kya –“ Mako starts.

The door to the telegraph room swings open and Korra walks out. “What about Kya now?”

“Oh, we were just talking about – “ Opal starts.

Korra grins.  “About me?”

“A little.  It’s sort of related to what I was about to say about Kya …”

“Go on …” Korra’s right eyebrow arches suspiciously.

“Uh, well, I don’t mean to gossip, but –“ Mako is nervous now.

“Tell us!” Bolin shouts.

“Oh, well, a few years ago I walked in on Kya trying to pick up Lin.”

Opal laughs. “Really?  She on my aunt? I can’t even picture it.”

“Yeah, that sounds like it would have been really awkward,” Korra says.

“What a brave woman,” Bolin says.  They all giggle.

Mako continues, “It was pretty funny … she said something about how she wasn’t like her ‘windbag of a brother,’ and then Chief said ‘don’t you mistake me for my featherhead of a sister!’”

“What?! That’s my mom you’re talking about!” Opal says in shock.

Bolin laughs. “Oh man … that’s rich.”

“Okay, stop, enough about my family.  Korra did you get through to Asami?” Opal says, turning to Korra.

Korra shook her head. “No, her butler answered.  He said she was out, but would probably be back later tonight. I’ll try again later.”

“So, what now?” Bolin asks the group.  “You guys in the mood for some dessert or something?”

“Oh, absolutely!  Is there a cute bakery where we can get some tea and snacks?” Opal suggests.

“I know a place,” Korra offers.  “It’s kind of out of the way, but they have these pastries you can’t get anywhere else in town.”

“Sounds good.  Let’s walk there. It’s really nice out,” Mako says, before leading them out the door. 

 

\--

 

Fall in Republic City is one of Korra’s favorite things. Everyone always prefers spring to all other seasons, but for some reason, Fall is the best.  It might be because it follows summer, her least favorite, the months when the unbearable heat stokes together all the horrible city odors (garbage, sweat, asphalt, smog) and causes her body (one that has spent the most time in the cold) to perspire profusely.

It could also be how, in autumn, the way the trees take on the warm ombre tones of a sunset, shedding leaves like golden flecks, fire embers, tiny fragments of light, all coating the cobblestone streets in a pressed collage of wildfire.

Asami loves Fall, too.  Korra remembers how one morning earlier that month, she’d walked Asami to her factory for no reason than to be by her side.  They’d taken an out-of-the way route down one of Republic City’s oldest avenue, one that zigged and zagged down a path too narrow for satomobiles. The trees there were overgrown and lush, the tops so thick and sumptuous with leaves that they almost created a canopy over the rooftops.  Most of the buildings lining either side of the street were covered in crawling vines of green ivy. 

That morning, it’d been chilly and breezy enough so that Asami clung tighter to Korra’s bare arm for warmth, marveling at Korra’s inborn resilience to the cold while Korra teased her for her sensitivity to the changing temperature.

Now, with the winter fast approaching, the air was even chillier, yet this still didn’t stop Korra from venturing outdoors dressed in a sleeveless shirt.

At her suggestion, they head to Amagi’s Melonpan Patch. The bakery is tucked away in the far Southwest corner of Republic City right along the edge of Yue Bay. It's a good forty minute walk from Narook’s and they take their time in getting there, making occasional stops along the way mainly for Opal’s benefit.  Out of all of them, she’s spent the least amount of time in the city. Korra herself makes everyone stop at a pet store so she can poke her head inside and coo at grizzly hound puppies and fox cat kittens.

Finally, by late afternoon, they arrive at the bakery.  Amagi’s was a small, rather unremarkable storefront decorated only with a wooden sign onto which the shop’s name was roughly hewn. Inside, there are two tiny tables with an uneven number of chairs and towards the back, a small counter in front of built-in wooden shelves that display dozens upon dozens of little round buns.

The place is empty and everyone takes a seat around the table closest to the window.

A middle-aged woman greets them at their table.  She wears her gray hair up and pulled back by an indigo-dyed bandana

“Good afternoon.  Can I get you anything?”

“Four melonpans and iced matcha teas, please,” Korra says, ordering for everyone.

“Very good.  I’ll bring them to the table,” the woman says before heading back to the counter.

 Bolin looked around the bakery.  “How’d you hear about this place?  I’ve never even heard of it!”

“It’s Asami’s favorite bakery.  They mostly make these sweet buns called melonpan and have a decent selection of dessert teas.  I think the buns are from some random island south of the Earth Kingdom,” Korra replies.

The woman returns shortly with a tray full of drinks, buns, and cloth napkins. She folds each pale blue napkin into diamond shapes and sets one in front of each of them, then places a bun on top. Tall, crystal etched glasses filled with generous amounts of perfect ice cubes and emerald green liquid are passed around the table.

After the woman leaves, Korra picks up her bun and examines it. It is soft and round, glazed on the outside with a light, crystallized sugar crust marked with thin criss cross cuts that bring to mind turtle duck shells.  Korra takes a small bite.  It has a delicate flavor and a dense, yet fluffy texture.  Her tongue detects the faintest hint of melon through the light taste of honey.  It’s been a while since she’s had one of these.

Frankly, she never understood why Asami liked them so much. She for one was never much for sweets but when the occasional craving hit her, she gravitated towards bolder flavors found in lemony egg custard tarts ( _those are so heavy_ , Asami had complained) or sweet fruit teas flowered with thick condensed milk ( _so cloying and heavy!_ What was with Asami and things being too heavy, anyway?).  

Though, Korra thinks fondly, they found common ground in those golden cakes baked into fish shapes and filled with sweet red bean paste. They both loved them due to sentimental attachments formed in childhood: Southern Water Tribe solstice festival food for Korra and Republic City Pan-Nation summer festivals for Asami, a holiday she’d attended every year with her late mother (growing up, Asami had rarely been allowed sweets, so these were a special annual treat she had always looked forward to).

Korra takes another bite of the melonpan and washes down the moist cake with a healthy sip of sweet iced tea.  Even though it hasn’t even been a full day since she last saw her, Korra misses Asami already.

“This is really good,” Opal murmurs.  “I don’t think I’ve had anything like this before.  It’s really simple and delicate.”

Korra nods, “Yeah.  Asami always said they’re worth the trek.”  By the time she’s eaten half the bun, it’s grown on her, having gained a newfound appreciation for its subtlety and Asami’s taste.  Trust Asami to turn her around to even the smallest things.

“Hey, you should bring some back with you to Zaofu!  I bet your mom would love them,” Bolin suggests.

“That’s a good idea!  I think I’ll take home a box,” Opal says.

“You think they’ll keep well?” Mako asks.

“Just come back the day before you leave and I’m sure they’ll keep fine,” Korra suggests.

Opal turns to Bolin.  “Will you come back here with me next week?”

“Duh!” Bolin responds.

Korra perks up.  “You know what? I’ll bring back a few for Asami, too.”

“Smart thinking,” Mako says.   

When all the melonpan has been eaten without a crumb left behind, and the glasses of tea have been drained down to the last watery dregs of melted ice, they get up to leave.  Korra asks the shopkeeper for a box of four melonpans to take away, which she promptly wraps in a simple brown box stamped with a tiny melon-shaped logo, tying it up with a long waxy strand of white and blue baker’s twine.

Box under her arm, Korra steps outside.  They're just in time to witness the sun set. The sky is soaked in a romantic pink hue that bleeds down into a soft mauve.  Mako asks if she needs to use the police station’s phone again to which Korra gratefully accepts.

By evening, when the ghost of the moon has emerged amongst the clouds, they reach the station.  Once more, Korra finds herself alone in the telegraph room, anxiety eating away at her with each unanswered ring.  Finally, someone picks up.

“Sato estate, may I help you?”

Korra’s heart drops.  It’s the butler.

“Hi, this is Korra again.  Is Asami there?”

“Yes, please hold, Avatar Korra.”

One agonizing minute of silence passes and then –

“Hello?”

“Asami?  Hey, it’s me …”

The voice on the other line is silent.  Korra sweats profusely.

“I just, um, I just wanted to apologize for last night and …” she mumbles.

More silence.

“Look, could I see you?  I’d really like to say sorry in person.”  The words come out of her rushed and hurried and desperate, but she doesn’t care.

“Korra …”

Korra can hear Asami struggling to keep her tone as gentle and civilized as possible.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Asami finally says in a measured voice.

Korra bites her lip.  She’s not sure what to say, but she thinks she can feel the floor open beneath her.

“I – please?  Asami … I just want to say I’m sorry.”  By now, her voice is pleading.

“Listen, I just need some time, okay?”

Korra knows she shouldn’t be pushing her, but she can’t help it. There’s nothing she wants more than for things to be okay again.  She can’t stand knowing things aren’t okay.

“But why?”

Asami sighs audibly.  “Because I’m still mad, okay? Just -- ” She pauses for a long moment. “I’ll call you. I’ve got to go.”

“Could I at least drop something off for you?” Korra looks over to brown box where it sits on a small folding table away from the machine.

“Can’t it wait?  Korra, I really have to go.  I’ll call you later, I promise. Bye.”

A lump forms in her throat and cheeks are burning. “Okay,” she finally manages. On the other line, she hears a soft click, then silence.

Some time?  What does that even mean? How much time? Patience was never her strongest suit. How can she be expected to wait like this?  Every passing minute will be spent in agony, is already agonizing, as her heart writhes in wait. Her chest hurts and she can’t stand this.

Korra takes a deep, shaky breath and leaves the room to where her friends wait, the box of treats tucked back under her arm. 

Later, she asks Mako and Bolin if she can stay with them for a few more days. She tells them about the conversation and receives reassuring words, mild condolences, and the occasional arm squeeze.  Each of them says that she’ll be fine and she really wants to believe them.

The walk back to the brothers’ apartment is chillier than when they’d left it earlier during the day.  Korra hugs herself loosely, trying to warm her bare arms that are now covered in goosebumps.  The others can tell her mood is still down – even when she says nothing, she’s easy to read. Always an open book, her face readily gives away her emotions.  It’s something she’s never been good at hiding.

They all try to cheer up, steering the conversation towards easy topics, such as Bolin’s cult following among the men of Tongzhi (they’re all fans of his impractical shorts and his campy heroism) and how Korra remembers catching a glimpse of an uncharacteristically tipsy Lin Beifong being cajoled into dancing by a persistent Kya during Varrick and Zhu Li’s wedding reception. Later that night, they order in dinner and play a game of Hwatu, then a drinking game Bolin learned from Zhu Li, passing around a large bottle of malted brew to refill the cups that empty quickly.

Korra has so much fun that she almost forgets that Asami won’t talk to her, was evidently hurt so much by her actions that she needs time away from her to think.  And so, in spite of the convivial atmosphere and warm laughter that marks the rest of the night, regret snakes slowly into her chest, gnawing a hole through her heart.

Even though she shouldn’t, Korra thinks she’ll stop by Asami’s place tomorrow. Just to drop off her gift. If she isn’t there, she’ll leave them with the butler. 

No point in letting them go bad, she thinks, not even if Asami hates her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I was away on vacation for two weeks. I wanted to add some local color to Republic City, which manifested mostly in cuisine, specifically, some of my favorite foods. The stew I refer to is mainly based off a Korean stew called Haejangguk -- I've actually never had it, but I hear it works wonders (personally, I'm a little put off by the idea of consuming congealed blood, or blood in any form, really). The melonpan also really exists, and is both tasty and very cute looking. 
> 
> Hwatu is a game played with Hanafuda cards, which are some of the most beautiful playing cards I've ever seen. Its rules are also very difficult to grasp at first, especially since it requires a nuanced understanding of the visual elements and motifs in the suits.
> 
>  **Coming up next:** Korra finally gets through to Asami.


	3. Getting it Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heart wants what the head doesn't want. That and the ever elusive Asami Sato.

The front doors to the Sato estate are impressive.  They are tall and the color of brushed chrome, though Korra has never been able to tell whether they’re shaped from metal or stone.  She could try bending them, of course, but that’s a terrible idea. Though maybe if she bent it just a tiny bit, maybe carve out her initials with her pinkie finger—the doors swing open, nearly hitting her in the face.

It’s that damned butler again, the one with the gold pince nez, weird center part, and unflappable face.  She finds it hard to hide her disappointment. 

“Good morning, Avatar Korra. How may I help you?”

Self-conscious, she shifts her weight onto her right leg, the box of pastries tucked under the crook of her arm.

“Hi.  Is Asami home?”

If the butler is surprised or exasperated, he doesn’t show it.  He must be used to this by now – his employer is a busy woman.

“Unfortunately, she left for a business trip earlier this morning.  Shall I leave a message?" 

Korra looks down. “Oh … do you know when she’s back?” 

“I believe Ms. Sato said she would be away for five days." 

Working at the Sato estate requires a certain amount of discretion, so Korra knows he’s being generous. If she were anyone else, he wouldn’t have been so exact with his answer.  Could she press him for more information?

“Do you know where she went?”

“I do not.” 

She narrows her eyes, trying her best to give him an intimidating, interrogative stare.

“You don’t?  Or are you just not allowed to tell me?”

He doesn’t break a sweat. “I do not know. If this is an emergency, you can try her assistant over at the factory.”

Korra sighs and drops the act. “Alright, well, thanks. Here, take this. Keep it in the ice box, maybe.”  She shoves package at him, then turns to leave.

She walks back over to where Naga waits on the driveway.  Before hopping on her back, Korra takes note of the deep blue Satomobile that’s parked nearby. A twinge of guilt unfurls in her chest, remembering the way she’d ruined Asami’s car keys the other night.

Asami said she needed time, but Korra’s apology can’t wait.  _Sorry, Asami_ , she thinks, _but I’ll give you your time once I tell you just how sorry I am._

Sometimes, two apologies are necessary.

 

\--

 

Future Industries Tower and all the buildings around it had been thoroughly obliterated in the spirit portal blast that rent apart approximately two square miles of downtown Republic City.  Since the tower’s destruction, Asami had taken to conducting her business out of a temporary office set up down at the factory. 

Korra’s never really cared for the factory.  The noise and sparks and grease and soot bombarding away at her senses — she can barely hear herself think in there. But it’s like a second home to Asami and all the overtime she puts in there has warranted more than a fair of share of visits on her behalf (sometimes, this is the only way she gets to see her overworked girlfriend).

Today, even though it’s her ninth or twelfth or twentieth time visiting the factory, Korra still manages to get lost. When a couple welders finally notice the Avatar wandering about between the noisy, spark-spitting machines, they direct her to the lift that leads up to Asami’s office on the twentieth floor. 

Korra taps her foot impatiently as the lifts climbs each floor.  Finally, it comes to a stop and a soft bell chimes.  She unlocks the scissor gate and slides it to the side, then pushes open the swing door.  How many doors does this thing need? 

Sunlight pours in and she sees that the door to Asami’s office is already open.  She takes one step inside, knocking softly.

Even though it’s a temporary set-up, Asami’s office is stately and impeccably furnished.  Westward facing ceiling-to-floor windows open out to a beautiful panoramic view of the city and Yue Bay.  Near sunset, when the light is rich and orange and painfully bright, motorized screens lower over each pane to soften the light.  

The walls are plain for the most part, save for a few framed pictures: vintage blueprints and patents, some sketched out by engineering pioneers of the past, others by her late father.  Korra notices a few new acquisitions: sumi ink drawings of spirit animals, most likely drawn by airbenders.  They’re probably hundreds of years old and she wonders how Asami managed to acquire them.

Steel and glass stacking bookcases line the left wall.  The shelves are stuffed with binders and folios and books, with little model fighting planes and submarines sitting on the topmost case (Korra loves these; Asami says they aren’t toys, but Korra doesn’t care because they’re fun).

Finally, at the very front of the office sits a large mahogany desk.  Currently, there’s someone sitting on the wood and leather swivel chair normally reserved for Asami: a young woman with brown eyes and a boyish bowl cut. She’s scribbling furiously, drawing or writing something on a large sheet of gridded paper.  As soon as she sees Korra at the doorway. 

“Oh, hello, Korra! I’m sorry I didn’t notice you standing there,” she says hurriedly.  “Come in, please.” 

“Hey, Fumi.  How are you?”  By now, she and Fumi are on a first name basis, having worked closely with Asami for the past year.  There were many nights when Fumi accompanied the couple to late night dinners following late night work sessions — without her help, Asami would have drowned in deadlines.

“Busy busy as always, especially with Ms. Sato gone this week,” she replies.  “What’s new with you?  Is there something I can help you with?  Did Ms. Sato leave something behind again?”

Korra rubs her neck. “Ah, no, actually, about that,” she starts. “I was hoping you could tell me how to reach her—Asami didn’t tell me where her business trip would take her.”

“Oh?  Well, it’s for a top secret project and the testing site location is pretty under wraps,” she says.  “Still, I assumed that she would tell you anyway. I guess it must be really on lock down …”

“But you know where she is?”

Fumi nods. “Yes.  Just in case Ms. Sato needed me to send her important communications or documents.”

Korra’s heart leaps. “Could you tell me where she is? I really need to reach her.” 

Fumi looks nervous. “Oh, well, I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement even though it was mostly for the benefit of the client, so I’m not sure I can –“

“Please?  This is really important.”

Korra watches Fumi internally wrestle with herself.  She feels a little bad for putting pressure on Asami’s assistant like this.

“I could … I guess I could give you the number for where she’s staying,” Fumi offers.

“That would be great, too, but I really need to see her in person.”  Korra figures she must sound desperate. 

Fumi looks her over carefully.  “Alright.  But the testing site doesn’t exactly have an address. It’s sort of in the middle of nowhere outside of Republic City where a large canyon meets a small section of desert.”

Fumi walks over to the bookcases and shuffles through the spines of binders and books. “Let me find a map to point it out to you, hold on …” 

Minutes pass by and Korra can feel herself getting fidgety.  The sound of paper rustling continues, the other girl heming and hawing as she opens binder after binder.  She wonders what good an absent-minded assistant is, but then remembers Asami’s infamous lack of organization skills ( _details_ , she calls them) and how for Fumi must have her work cut out for her, making sense of Asami's mess.  

After a while, Korra can’t take it—desert, canyon, whatever, she has enough information to go on.

“You know what? I’ll just take Naga out and find her. Thanks so much for the info,” she says, heading for the door. 

Fumi looks up. “Are you sure? Let me at least get you that number …”

“That’s okay! I’ll just go find her now.” Korra waves her hand. “

The other girl looks concerned. “When I said it’s in the middle of nowhere, I meant it.  It’ll be hard to –“

Korra laughs. “That’s alright. I have ways of figuring these things out.  Worse comes to worst, I’ll just improvise.”

Fumi has a look on her face like she has no idea what she means.

“Thanks again for your help, Fumi,” Korra says before walking through the doorway. 

“Oh … you’re welcome. Good luck?”

And with that, Korra heads for the lift, her mind already searching, trying to think of places nearby that might have some spirit vines.

 

\--

 

Luckily, the area around the Future Industries factory is rife with spirit vines and Korra finds a particularly thick one curled around a street lamp. 

She closes her eyes and presses her palm to the vine, focusing on Asami’s spirit.  A warm sensation in her chest spreads out like a blooming flower, traveling down her forearm and extending outside of her body. Locating someone’s spirit is always intense, but this time, it’s almost overwhelming. 

Energy pulses out into the distance like a rush of water or jet of flame.  Almost instantaneously, a vision comes to her, flooding golden in her mind. Northeast, road, trail, trees, gravel, sand, rock.  She knows where to go.

But, with some apprehension, she thinks of Asami’s words, _I just need some time_ and of Mako’s advice to apologize as soon as she could.

Then somehow Tenzin’s scolding voice worms its way into her head: _Korra! You need to be less rash. Don’t you remember anything I said about neutral jing?  You need to exercise patience if not for yourself, but for the sake of others._

Guilt eats away at her until, _fine_.  If Asami needs time, she’ll give her time. As much as she hates it, as much as the impulse and impatience nag at her to just fix it, just go fix it and make it _right_ already, she’ll wait.

Neutral jing had better not turn out to be bullshit.

 

\--

 

By the time she returns to Mako and Bolin’s apartment, the brothers have left for work, leaving her alone with Opal.

Opal suggests they go see a mover and so after much deliberation, they both decide on a matinee showing of some historical epic war romance set during Chin the Conqueror’s reign in the Earth Kingdom.  The mover is currently topping the charts because of its highly topical subject matter—Kuvira's power-drunk trail of destruction is still fresh in people’s minds. 

Korra thinks it would have been nice, though, if people had remembered this _before_ the Earth Empire situation got out of hand.  How they all didn’t see it coming, she doesn’t understand.  What’s the point of history lessons if everyone eventually forgets, anyway?  But she’s also come to learn that desperation often gives way to denial—she understands that much, but still thinks that people shouldn’t make concessions so easily, really.

Kyoshi makes a cameo and Korra wonders how the director found a woman that tall to portray her.  It occurs to Korra that Kyoshi may have loved women, too, and wonders what other past avatars had fallen in love with same sex partners.  It’s yet another shame to have lost all of those connections, she thinks, because right now she could use some avatar wisdom in the romance department right about now.  Maybe she'll ask Raava later, though can't imagine what kind of advice the embodiment of order could give.

Afterwards, she and Opal grab a late lunch.  There’s a bookstore Opal wants to check out and Korra tags along—the more distractions, the better.  But after about half an hour of standing around stacks and shelves of dusty paperbacks and baskets of old magazines, Korra can feel herself getting antsy again. 

Opal has been absorbed in the same poetry book for what seems like forever and Korra wants nothing more to leave and do something, _anything_ than just stand around.  Opal notices and kindly tells her she won't be offended if Korra wants to leave, especially since she'd like to stick around and browse some more for a while.

Korra sighs in relief and bids her farewell, telling her she’ll see her later back at the brothers’ apartment.

Wandering around the city seems like a good idea.  An hour passes and there’s that anxiety again.  Maybe a ride with Naga will help. Adrenaline-fueled joy rides always did the trick.  Getting Naga will be a bit of a pain, though, as she’s still stuck on Air Temple Island where she’d left her two days ago before her disastrous date with Asami.

Secretly, she’s hoping the kids won’t be around because she’s just not in the mood to deal with any questions about her personal life.  Not to mention it’ll be hard not to interrogate Jinora and shake her down for every bit of gossip the young airbender apparently has on her own girlfriend. Pema and Tenzin probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

Lucky for her, the kids are out and Pema is the only one there (Tenzin had taken them out on an airbending day trip). For a moment, Korra considers asking her for advice, but stops short when she remembers the last time they’d discussed her love life (worst advice ever, seriously).

Pema catches on to her shiftiness, though, and asks if something is on her mind.  She accompanies her to Naga’s favorite napping spot under a large oak tree on the other side of the island, and they talk the whole way there.

The conversation goes something like this: was Pema bothered by the idea of Tenzin being involved with someone else before getting together with her?  Not really, no, except in the sense of believing he’d be happier with her than with Lin, but that was before they got together.  But what about his history with Lin, weren’t they together for, like, forever?  Didn’t that make her jealous?  No, because he ended up making a future with me.  Okay, but did she ever think Lin knew Tenzin better than she did?  Maybe in certain ways, but for the most part, no. Pema knows him best, now, even if Lin knew young Tenzin better than she did.  But doesn’t that mean she only knows part of Tenzin, not all of him? 

 _Korra_ , she’d said sweetly, _it’s impossible to know everything about one person, even if you’re the one they’re closest to. It’s silly to worry about this kind of thing – it doesn’t mean you know them any less._

Korra admitted she sometimes felt bad and weird about their weird past with Mako, how she’d handled things back then.

_But you’re a different person now, no?  Just remember to be kind to your past self._

Mulling over this exchange, Korra leaves Air Temple Island feeling a little lighter.

  

\--

 

After an exhilarating ride with Naga, Korra makes up her mind.  She returns to Mako and Bolin’s apartment around dinnertime.  Everyone’s sitting on the floor eating soup dumplings when she bursts in and asks (more like yells) them to come with her to Tongzhi.

“What?  Why?”  Mako’s spoon is held mid-air.

“I don’t know, I just think it’ll make me feel better.”  She can’t explain it really, just gets the feeling that it would.

“Sure,” Opal says.

“Can I come?” Bolin asks, his eyes lighting up.  It’s just like him to get excited about stuff like this.

“Yeah, of course!”

“Well, then, do I have to?” Mako asks. 

Korra doesn’t have a chance to answer before his brother cuts in.

“Come on, it’ll be fun! You never go out. Maybe you’ll meet someone there!”

The look on Mako’s face is priceless.  “What.”

“Guys, shut up,” Opal waves at them.  “Should we go after dinner?”

Korra hums in response and sit down at the table when Opal motions for her to join them.

“Though maybe don’t drink so much this time, yeah?  I’m gonna keep count,” Mako mumbles through a bite of food.

She nods, a huge grin plastered across her face.  Korra can’t help herself. Her friends are great.

 

\--

 

The district is much quieter this time around.  It’s a weeknight, after all.  They wander around a bit, poking their heads through doors to scope out the scene at each bar and restaurant and club they pass.  Korra wonders if they look suspicious or out of place or maybe just rude?

Then, they find a place that appeals to her.  It has a shabby door and a sign so old it’s unreadable, but Korra can hear people chattering inside (not too loudly) and some low key music playing.  A middle-aged woman with wide shoulders and tomboyish hair sits on a stool by the door, absorbed in what appears to be a book of crossword puzzles.  When they approach her, she doesn’t even look up, just swings the door open and mumbling, “go crazy, kids.”

It’s a dive, to say the least, and already Korra loves it.  The lights are low, there’s a pool table in the back corner, a long bar with a zinc counter ( _so cool_ ), and a dartboard next to a tiny phonograph crackling something that _isn’t_ jazz, for once.  It looks like there’s a backyard, too, decorated with those twinkling string lights she loves. 

It’s a mixed crowd of men and women, most of them around her age, and they’re just hanging around, chatting and laughing— _regulars_ , Korra thinks.  She even spots a few people gnawing at skewers of meat and dear Raava, if they serve food here, she’s _set_.  Everyone looks so comfortable and laid back and _damn,_ why hadn’t Asami brought her here the other night instead?  Maybe Asami doesn’t even know about this place?  She can’t really fault her, anyway, Canna & Lily's really was so very Asami—a little gilded, a little smoky, like velvet trim.  Whatever this place is called, it's more up Korra's alley, unfussy and rough-and-tumble fun.

“I’m going to go play some pool,” Mako announces, splitting off from the group immediately.

Bolin looks around, scratching the back of his head.  He looks back and forth between Korra and Opal.  “I’m going to … get you guys some drinks?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Opal says.

“Let’s go check out the backyard,” Korra says.  She heads for the back of the bar.  “Come find us out there, yeah?”

The backyard is a good deal livelier and crowded than the bar.  Small folding tables and chairs are scattered all around with couples and friends occupying most of the seating areas, gathered in lively little clusters.  Farther away towards the back, there’s a stone bench that runs along the back wall.   The wall is made of brick, but is nearly green in color as it’s covered in spidery ivy vines and leaves and climbing morning glories.  Korra and Opal pick a spot on the bench where it’s quieter, away from most of the chatter.  The sweet honeyed scent of flowers lingers in the air and Korra glances up, her eyes following the glowing zig-zag of golden lights strung haphazardly from the wall behind them to all the way up front near the entrance that leads back to the bar.  Summers here must be nice.

There’s a small table in front of them with a wax tea light housed inside red glass globe. She reaches out to touch it—it’s warm and lovely. 

“So, how are you feeling?”

Korra turns her head to Opal – she’d almost forgotten she was there.

“About Asami? 

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.  I’m still kind of a nervous wreck.” She folds her arms and leans back against the wall.  It’s cool against her back and she can feel leaves brushing the skin of her shoulders. 

“I went by her house to find her,” Korra says.  “She wasn’t there.”

“Ah.”

There’s a couple sitting ahead of them to the right, two girls, one curvy, the other wiry.  The wiry one mumbles something into the curvy one’s ear, and they both toss their heads back in laughter.

Opal leans forward, props her head up with her hands, elbows resting on the surface. 

“So, when did you guys get together? Like, officially?” 

“Oh … Bolin never told you?”

“Not really. He just said you were together and didn’t really say much beyond that.  He was pretty thrilled, though.”

Korra chuckles.  She drums her fingers on the table.  The tiny flame in the candle holder flickers.

“I don’t know about official.  It just kind of happened, I guess.”

“Really?  ‘It just kind of happened’— that _can’t_ be the whole story!  You guys were friends for how long and then you come back after three years and all of a sudden you’re together?  Like, _together_ together?”

Korra shrugs. Honestly, she hasn’t given it that much thought herself.  Not in a bad way, really, but she’s not sure how to put it into words. 

“I don’t know. Yeah!  I came back and when I saw her again, something just clicked and it made sense.  I feel like we sort of fell into it.”

“Then you just _randomly_ decided to go on a romantic trip to the Spirit World,” Opal says, staring at her now, a bemused look on her face.

“Hey, I don’t know what to tell you.  That’s the story and I’m sticking to it.  All I know is that it felt right and we rolled with it and here we are.”

Korra pauses. Pouts.  “I mean, here I am, now, I guess.  I have no idea where _we_ are.  But I’m here in the dog house like some chump and she’s off somewhere, I don’t even know where.”  She grunts and stands up. “Let’s stop talking about this. What’s taking Bolin so long, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go back inside. I’m worried he’s picked out a terrible girly drink for me anyway.”  Opal stands up and walks back to the entrance, weaving between the crowded tables with Korra following close behind.

As soon as they step inside the bar, they hear excited high-pitched squealing and laughing.  There’s a crowd of men standing around with Bolin at the center … posing?  And flexing?  All with a toothy, face-breaking grin.

“I can’t believe _Nuktuk_ is here!” 

“Come on, move—I want a picture next!” 

Bolin waves them over. “Oh, hey!  Hey guys, I met some mover fans!” He grabs Opal and yanks her to his side, swinging an arm over her shoulder.

A rosy-cheeked young man with buzzed black hair turns around and cooes at Opal.  “Is this your girlfriend?” 

“She sure is!” Korra thinks that if Bolin smiles any wider, his cheeks will split. 

“Oh, she’s much cuter than Ginger,” another man says.

Opal huffs and says in the sauciest voice Korra’s ever heard from the young Beifong: “Damn right I am.”

One of the men motions over to an old-timey photobooth in the corner of the bar, near to the bathroom door.

“Photobooth!  Come on!”

Bolin is promptly hurried away by the throng of fans (four, five, six of them?) towards the photobooth.  He waves back and Opal and Korra, “Uh, sorry!  Be back later?”

Opal is laughing as she watches her boyfriend get carried away.

“Oh, he’s loving this.  Let me get you a drink, what do you want?”

Korra is distracted: on the other side of the room, Mako is playing pool with someone just as tall and lanky as him.

“Um, a malted something or whatever.”  She’s still new to this whole drinking thing.

“I’ll … pick something out for you.  Be right back,” Opal says.  She saunters off to the bar.

Korra takes the opportunity to approach the pool table where Mako and this other person are apparently intensely engaged in a silent game of eightball.

“Hey,” he says, not bothering to look up from where he’s bent over, cue aimed and ready.  He shoots and the balls go shooting off in different directions. Korra can’t tell if he’s winning or losing.  She isn’t much for table games or card games or Pai Sho.  Though Asami has been trying to warm her up to the last two (miserably, as Korra is just terrible at these things – Asami says _impatient_ , Korra says _terrible_ ).

“Are you winning?”

“Not yet.”

“Wanna bet on that?” The other person says. They’re handsome and tall, with pale green eyes and close-cropped dark hair slicked back. 

“Gambling’s illegal.” 

“You a cop?” 

“Yes.” 

“Shame.”

Korra doesn’t know whether she should laugh or slowly back away from this scene.  She decides on an uncomfortable chortle of sorts.  It comes out sounding halfway between a cough and a choking sound.  They both look up at her.

“Wu used to make me come with him to places like this,” Mako says.  He’s standing back from the table, leaning on the cue like a cane.

“What, really?” Korra remarks. “I guess I’m not surprised.”

His opponent walks around the table, green eyes focused intently on Korra.  “Who’s your friend?”

“Korra,” Mako replies. Korra waves awkwardly. 

“Avatar?” 

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

Korra can’t take much more of this weird, monosyllabic exchange.  She looks around and sees Opal walking her way, a glass in each hand.

“Nice to meet you, bye!” She hurries over to Opal, nudges her towards the door to the patio.

“I think Mako’s found his long lost twin,” Korra says as they reclaim their seats along the back wall.

Opal gives her a questioning look. “Nevermind.”  She picks up her glass and takes a sip.  It’s a little strong.  She remembers her promise to Mako and thinks if she’s only going to have one drink, she’ll at least make it count. 

Opal takes a sip of her own drink, pinky held straight in the air.  The sight almost makes Korra laugh.  Asami does that with every drink, with sake, with tea, even with a paper cup full of water.

“So,” Opal says, setting down her glass.  “You were telling me about you and Asami …”

Korra groans. “This again?  What more do you want to know?” 

“Sorry, I’m just kind of curious.”

Korra raises an eyebrow.

“No, really. You guys just seem to have this connection and I don’t know Asami really well.  She’s like a cipher to me.”  Opal pauses and backtracks a little.  “Not a cipher, but, she’s intimidating.  And important, like a big deal.  I mean, so are you and …“

Korra squints her eyes at Opal while she babbles.  “Why are you so interested in my love life?”

Opal blushes and holds her hands up defensively.  “I’m not!  I mean.  I don’t know, it just all seems really romantic is all I’m saying.  Like, epic.  I just want to hear the story.”

“Opal, I think you read too much.” She can’t help but laugh and eventually Opal joins in.

“I’m still kind of new at this, the whole relationship thing,” Korra starts.  “Asami’s only the second person I’ve ever had feelings for. And it’s sort of different from how things were with Mako.  It feels different.”

“Different how?”

“I’m not sure, really. Like, with Mako, it was sort of boom! Sort of like how things are supposed to feel, or at least what people tell you.  Instantaneous?  Yeah,” Korra says.  She’s starting to feel a little awkward.  

“I know what you mean. Like, chemistry.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Anyway, with Asami … I mean, it’s like that, too, sure, but at first it was just this slow thing that crept up on me. I didn’t really notice it at first because I was mostly happy to just be spending time with her.  And then that whole mess with the poison happened and I left.”

Korra takes another sip of her drink.  It’s still hard to talk about now, her absence and its catalyst.  Frankly, she hasn’t spoken to that many people about it, even among her closest friends.

“It was really hard being alone. I thought about her a lot. I thought about everyone a lot, really, but things always came back to her.  Not seeing her for three years … Sometimes I thought I was going crazy.  I was in my head too much and I couldn’t tell if those feelings would go away when I finally saw her again –“

Opal nods. “Distance can be confusing, I know.”

“Yeah.  But then I came back and when I saw her again, um, well, those feelings didn’t go away?”  She laughs softly, remembering their reunion.  “After that slow burn, everything sort of combusted.  For me, anyway.  But, I wasn’t sure how she felt, so –

“Really?”

“No.  Not at first. Then she made it pretty clear.” Korra can feel herself blushing at the memory of Asami slamming her hard against a wall, kissing her even harder.

Opal giggles. “She just went for it?”

“Yeah.”  Korra smiles.  “It just made sense.  It makes sense being with her, just, like, right.  I’m lucky. It took me a while to sort things out and get my shit together … and I needed to, of course, I don’t regret that at all. But I’m also not going to pretend that three years isn’t a long time …”

She swallows. There’s a lump in her throat. “Before I left, she really took care of me, you know?  And letting her see me like that … I mean, I was okay with it because it was her.”

Opal is watching her. She feels self-conscious so she downs the rest of her drink a little too quickly.

“I want to be able to do the same for her.  At the very least.  Asami’s just … she’s really sweet.  And thoughtful. She’s so soft inside and I care about her so much, but I was _such_ an asshole the other night –“

Korra can feel tears prickling at her eyes, so she hides her face in her hands, elbows propped on the table. Opal rubs her back. Why is everyone so damn nice to her all the time? 

“Korra, I’m sure everything will be okay.  Asami knows that you care about her and if—"

“Hey, Shorty,” a deeper voice cuts in, interrupting Opal.

 Korra looks up. A pair of blue eyes bright like ice chips stare down at her.   _Are you fucking kidding me ..._

 “Nice to see you again, Avatar. Don’t tell me you found another girlfriend,” Ikkuma says, a smirk playing across her stupid, shapely lips.

This is the _last_ person she wants to see right now. Especially now that she there’s a torrent of tears welling up inside of her, threatening to spill over.  Not in front of this idiot.  But, really, when she thinks about it, _she’s_ the idiot, the biggest idiot.

Then her face crumples and before she knows it, she's sobbing into her hands.  It’s mortifying.  There’s a really long pause (everyone must be shocked), then she thinks she hears Opal angrily snap something rude to Ikkuma before turning back to Korra, looping an arm around her shoulders.  There are other voices, too, mostly feminine, and they also sound kind of mad. 

“Ikkuma, you’re such a jerk!”

“You made the Avatar cry, what is your problem?”

Korra finally looks up, wiping at her eyes angrily.  Ikkuma is flushed, an awkward grimace twisting her features like an air bison mid-sneeze.  If Korra weren’t crying right now, she’d laugh, because the look on Ikkuma’s face is hysterical.  Actually, she tries to laugh, but instead of laughter, more tears come out.  A lot more.  And they’re loud.  At this point, she’s bawling, really, just flat out ugly crying.

“Oh, um.  Geez, don’t cry.  I was just—sorry, I was just teasing.  I’m sorry!” Ikkuma at least looks like she feels bad.

A pretty, petite girl sidles up next to Ikkuma and punches her hard in the arm.  She’s significantly shorter than her and wears her long brown hair tied up in a ponytail.  With an earnest look on her face, she turns to Korra and apologizes. 

“Sorry about my asshole friend,” she offers, bright green eyes twinkling.  “If you wanna slug her, I can hold her down for you.”  The girl turns to Ikkuma. “Seriously, Tiny, making girls cry, you’re really the worst.”

Ikkuma mumbles one last “sorry” to Korra before she’s dragged away by the short girl with the green eyes.  Once they’re out of earshot, Korra sighs dramatically.

“Oh, that is just so embarrassing,” she moans.

“Who was …” Opal starts. “Oh, was that?  Was that the pro-bending girl …”

“Yes,” she groans miserably.

“Well, I think she feels pretty bad, at least.  Are you okay?”

Korra sniffles. The tears are out of her system. “Yeah.  Let’s go inside and find Mako and Bolin.  I’m ready to get out of here.”

They find the brothers sitting side-by-side at the bar.  Opal hops onto the stool next to Bolin and pulls on his hair playfully. “Your fan club gone?” 

Mako swivels around to face Korra and she can feel him inspecting her red, puffy eyes.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” she says quickly. “No.”

“How much did you have to drink?”

Opal peers over Bolin’s shoulder. “It’s not that. That Ikkuma girl turned up and tried to start stuff with her—“

“What!” Bolin exclaims. “You need some back-up, Korra?” 

“No, it’s okay. I’m just still twisted up about Asami and everything,” she says. 

“Korra, you need to make like your native element and chill,” Mako tells her.  “You’re just going to drive yourself crazy like this.”

“Okay, first,” Korra holds up her finger.  “That is so corny and you’re a nerd.  And two, you’re the one who told me to apologize as soon as possible.”

“Hey, I still think you should.”

“I tried!  I’m trying.  But she said she needed time,” Korra says.  She’s more than frustrated now.

“I agree with Mako!” Bolin chimes in.  “Say sorry, and say it fast. The sooner the better.”

Opal pulls at Bolin’s shoulder, tries to squeeze in closer to the group.  “Hang on, I feel like I need to be the female voice of objective reality here.  If she says she needs time, she needs time.  But, Korra, you know Asami best, so it's your call, really.”

This is all making her head hurt. “Let’s … okay, let’s talk about something else.  Or leave? I might be ready to head home.”

As they stand up from their seats, Ikkuma’s green-eyed friend comes barreling over to her. 

“Hey, Korra, right?” She motions over to the side of the bar where the dartboard is.  Ikkuma and a few other girls are gathered there, drinks in hand.  “Come play darts with us.”

“Oh,” Korra’s eyes shift to her own friends, then to the exit.  “We were just about to leave.”

“Come on. It’ll give you a chance to kick Ikkuma’s ass.”  The girl’s eyes are big and playful and her offer is tempting—Korra can already tell she's one of those girls with that kind of infectious, cheery energy.

“Yeah, okay, let’s do this,” Korra punches her fist into her open palm. 

“Al-right! Bring your friends, too, we’ll be over there.  My name’s Yoo, by the way.” 

This could be a good chance to turn this night around.  Korra ushers Mako, Bolin, and Opal over to where a gaggle of girls are laughing and drinking, obviously waiting for her to join them.  Ikkuma just stands there awkwardly, all traces of her previous smugness gone, before challenging Korra to a one-on-one game of Shanghai.  It’s her first time playing, but she picks up the rules fairly quickly.  By the time they’re down to the last few numbers, everyone’s egging them on, whooping and shouting and trash-talking.  

Korra wins, just barely, thanks to Ikkuma’s last dart which missed the board entirely, lodging itself in the wall to everyone’s surprise (and uproarious amusement).  Korra thinks this is a little weird, really, but then, Yoo winks slyly at her and she connects the dots. It was a sneaky, really, not to mention impressive little feat of metalbending that was just subtle enough to avoid detection.  Later, Yoo elbows her and tells her, in a low voice, that Ikkuma’s ego really needs to be kept in check.  Korra can’t help but notice the touch of fondness under her otherwise cutting comment.

Yoo and her friends convince Korra to stay a little while longer, and they all move to the backyard to continue talking, laughing, drinking.  They trade stories and jokes (Bolin doesn’t stop with the puns, Yoo finally cuts him off around the fourth bad joke since she’s heard it all before). Most of the girls are into pro-bending, though Ikkuma tells them Yoo quit recently (she was the best, Ikkuma insists, but Yoo points out she’s getting old and needs to help run her family’s business).  

There’s a certain warmth between the two girls that Korra doesn’t miss – a kind of familiarity bred from comfort and chemistry. Their dynamic is cute: Ikkuma, with her incorrigible swagger and Yoo, with her merciless teasing (she calls the other girl “Tiny” many times over during the course of the evening).  Watching the two do their shy little dance, Korra can’t help but miss Asami. 

 

\--

 

The next morning, Korra decides she can’t wait any longer.  At sun up while everyone else is still sound asleep, she rides Naga into the heart of downtown. Spirit energy is the richest around the portal – touching the vines around its periphery should be the quickest way to locate Asami, rather, make sure it's the same place she'd seen the other day.

She finds a nice thick vine to her liking and moves her palm over its trunk, hovering just above the brilliant green.  There is a moment of hesitation—should she be doing this again?  Would it be intrusive?  Korra shakes her head and strengthens her resolve, focuses on conjuring her clearest memories of Asami.

When her hand touches the vine, warmth blooms in her chest and sucks her in.  The sensation is incredible, like being pulled through a mile long-tornado, golden light swirling and screaming in her ears.

Then, it stops, and she sees it: a bare, rocky plain between two canyons and Asami standing still, feet planted in the dart, goggles over her eyes.  She's wearing some sort of backpack.  Someone is counting down, and when the voice reaches ‘one,’ Korra hears a loud rushing noise before her vision goes black and she’s suddenly pulled back to Republic City.

That certainly was odd. Korra touches the vine again—nothing.

Worry creeps into her thoughts and jogs over to where Naga is sitting.  She climbs up onto the saddle and urges Naga towards the bridge that leads out into the mountains. 

Something doesn’t feel right, but she thinks she knows where to go.

 

\--

 

Riding Naga at full speed never loses its thrill.  It’s a freeing experience she’s recently shared with Asami – at first, she was afraid Asami would think it inferior to her array of faster, more streamlined modes of transportation, but she’d been wrong. 

 _Satomobiles can’t jump_ , she’d said while clinging onto Korra’s midsection, _and they aren’t alive in the same way a polar bear dog is_.

 _Do you think it’s cold?_ Asami had asked after the ride.  _The way I love machines?_

 _Of course not!  After all, you make them to share with other people, right?  How could that be cold?_   Korra had said. 

Without a word, Asami had taken her hand then, remaining silent while Korra wondered whether she’d said the right thing.

She still feels this way, like she’s trying her best, trying hardest to understand.

 

\--

 

By the time she reaches the canyons, an hour has passed and Republic City is miles behind her.  The area is desolate, but looks deeply familiar.  The canyons are actually one long strip of rock that’s been split in two, like a steep, treacherous corridor. A flat gravely length of land lays deep below the schism.

Cautiously, Korra leads Naga towards the lip of the canyon and peers over the edge.  She spots a small group of people milling about, many of them in white coats.  There are jeeps and odd machines along one side of the canyon, as well as some makeshift scaffolding and ladders that lead up and out to the top.  Korra’s eyes travel up until they’re back at her level high above the ground—on the other side of the split, there are more jeeps and a few biplanes parked by tents and trailers. 

Without second thought, she airbends herself down the deep schism until she lands on the ground very close to the mysterious group of people.

“Avatar Korra!” one of them shouts.  An older man with a white beard jogs up to her and holds out his hand.  “What are you doing here?  I mean, how can we help you?”

 She gives him a firm shake. “I’m looking for Asami Sato.  Is she here with you?” 

The man’s brown eyes widen. “Oh!  Ms. Sato was here with us yes, but she just left.”

“Are you sure? I thought I’d just seen—“ Korra stops. She’s not sure how to explain spirit tracking to this man.

“She left just an hour ago.  Ms. Sato had to be taken to the nearest hospital which, unfortunately, is miles away in Republic City.  She was injured—”

Korra’s heart jumps. “What?  How?”

“She was testing a prototype and—“

“Is she okay?”

The man holds his hands up.  “It wasn't serious.  You see, my research foundation has been working with Future Industries on a new jetpack prototype and today, Ms. Sato participated in testing the model first hand.” 

He points over to a jagged outcrop high up on the canyon cliff.  “There was a small accident.  The jetpack malfunctioned and she collided with the wall …”

“Damn it!”

The man winces visibly.  Korra groans and raises a hand to her face, her heart racing.  “Are you sure it wasn’t serious?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but she waves a hand at him.

 “You know what, nevermind.  I’ll go see for myself.  I—yeah.”

With a violent burst of airbending, Korra propels herself up into the sky.  When she lands, she runs toward Naga and jumps onto her back.

Korra digs her heels into Naga's sides, and the animal leaps off into a sprint.

“Come on, girl, let’s hurry home.  I know you’re tired, but Asami might be in trouble.”

The rest of the ride is a blur and the wind whips away the beads of cold sweat forming on her brow.  Deep in the pit of her stomach, the feeling of dread doesn’t ebb, not even for a second.

 

\--

 

Luckily, there’s only one major hospital in Republic City and Korra knows where it is.  She has the address practically memorized — she’d spent a few good weeks helping out medical relief efforts after the averted Earth Empire invasion.  It’s not her favorite place.  She can still remember some of the uglier sights: lost limbs, crushed bones, crying orphans, and large queues of refugees waiting to donate blood.  

Try as she might, she can’t keep her mind from expecting the worst.  

As she’s about to barrel through the entrance of the Republic City General Hospital, the double doors swing open and out walks Asami.  They both freeze in their tracks.  Korra observes the look of surprise on Asami’s face, green eyes wide and eyebrows raised. 

“Korra?”

“Are you okay?”  Korra blurts out, frantically looking her over. There’s a patch gauze taped to  her forehead and her bottom lip is split red.  Then she notices her left arm, bandaged and wrapped in a sling.

Korra steps up to her, eyes roaming over the rest of her body, scanning for more injuries.  “Asami, are you okay?  Are you hurt?  What happened?” 

Asami looks down at her arm. “Oh … yeah.  Broke my wrist—it isn’t anything serious.”

“Are you sure? I was so worried.” 

“I’m fine, the healer said I’d only have to wear the cast for a few weeks.”  She gives Korra a quizzical look.  “How did you know I was here?”

“One of the guys you’re working with said you got hurt and had to be taken to the hospital.  I rushed over as fast as I could.  I think Naga’s about to pass out from exhaustion.”  Korra turns and motions over to the polar bear dog sprawled out near the parked ambulances.

Tentatively, she reaches and puts a hand on Asami’s shoulder.  “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“Wait, you went to the testing site?”

Korra nods.  Asami pulls back slightly.

“How did you know I was there?”

 Korra stiffens, nervous. “Um, Fumi told me?”

“Fumi?”

“Yeah.  Well, and I also did the spirit vine thing.”

Asami frowns. “The spirit vine thing.”

“You know, the thing I did back when Prince Wu got kidnapped?”

“No, I know.”

“Oh.”  Korra studies her face.  It’s impassive and steely.  And totally unrecognizable. 

The tension thickens with every passing second of silence.

Asami breaks eye contact and steps into the street.  With her one good arm, she waves down a nearby taxi.  As the car pulls up to them, she turns to Korra.

“I need to go home and rest if I want make it back out to the site tomorrow.”

She reaches for the backseat door.  Korra touches her shoulder, moves to stop her.

“Asami, wait, please—“

Korra’s hand still on her shoulder, she leans down and opens the car door.  Before stepping inside, she turns around to face her.

“Korra, I’m tired and would really like to lie down and get some rest,” she says.  “Okay?”

Korra bites down hard on her lower lip.  Asami can’t seriously think she can just walk off like this.

“Could I at least come with you? You’re pretty banged up." 

“I’m fine, really.  It’s nothing I can’t take care of myself.”  She steps inside and sits down on the leather seats.

Korra holds the door open. “I know, but let me try anyway?  Take care of you, I mean.”

Asami just stares at her.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

When she sees that same unflinching expression in her normally warm eyes, Korra thinks she might cry.

The mousey-looking driver clears her throat.

“Uh, ma’am? Are you getting in or not?”

“Yes,” Korra answers.

“No.”

Asami moves to close the door, but Korra blocks her way, wedging herself between the seat and the door.

“Seriously? You can’t expect me to let you go home like this when you just got out of the ER.”

For one long, drawn out moment, Asami is quiet, staring at the leather head rest of the seat directly in front of her.

The driver coughs loudly. “Ma’am?  We really need to get going.  Rush hour is about to start and I can’t leave the car idle like this forever.”

“So what are you waiting for? Go!” Asami shouts.

In the rear view mirror, Korra sees the driver’s eyes go wide.  “The door is still open, ma’am.”

Asami lets out a frustrated noise.  But no matter how scary she sounds and looks, Korra isn’t giving up.

“If you’re not going to scoot over, I’m just going to sit in the front.”

“You’ll lock that door if you know what’s good for you,” Asami says to the driver.  “Do you know who I am?  I’m the CEO of Future Industries and we own Tigerlily Taxis. Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

Korra ducks her head into car. “And I’m the Avatar. I don’t need to say anything more to that.”

“Damn it, Korra!” 

Asami moves over to the side to make room for her and Korra hops in, sliding next to her and slamming the car door behind her.

“Sato estate,” Asami barks at the driver.  The car begins to move.

“I just want to talk,” Korra says, her voice soft.  “And we don’t have to do it now, I promise.  But would you at least let me take care of you tonight?”

Asami refuses to meet her eyes. Her brow is knitted and lips pressed into an angry line.

“So _now_ you want to talk.”

Korra shifts nervously in her seat. “Um, yes, but like I said, we don’t have—“

Asami whips around and Korra can practically feel the rage emanating from her entire body. 

“I can’t believe you went to Fumi. Squeezing information from my assistant?" 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

“Then tracking me using special Avatar powers?”

Korra looks down at her lap. “Yeah.”

“I said I needed space, but evidently, that doesn't matter to you.”

“Wait,” Korra pleads. “You said you needed time, not space.” 

“I need both.”

Her blood runs cold. “What?”

“Korra, I told you I needed some time but then you just show up like this without even thinking—“

“No!  I thought a lot, actually.  Like a lot, a lot.”  She moves to touch her hand, but Asami pulls away.  It stings.

“And this is the conclusion you came to?  To do things on your own terms and throw your weight around at everyone, even some cab driver?”

The car comes to a slow stop at a red light.  In the rearview mirror, Korra can see sweat beading on the poor driver’s face.  She looks relatively young.

“To be fair, so did you, with the whole Future Industries thing.”  As soon as the words leave her mouth, she regrets them instantly. Green eyes meet hers and narrow.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant to say!”

“You know what?”  Asami unbuckles her seat belt with a click.  “I can’t deal with this right now.”

Before she knows it, Asami’s already opened her side door and walked out of the car and into the open street. _Fuck_.

Korra undoes her own seatbelt as quickly as she can and runs after her.  She spots Asami’s figure, weaving in and out of the cars stopped in their lanes, agile as ever.

“Asami!  Wait!”

The lights turn green and Asami is already off the road and on the sidewalk.  As Korra dodges the oncoming cars, she wonders how much more she can fuck this up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'm so sorry this took SO long! I'm also sorry that this current draft is probably riddled with errors, but I wanted to get it up as soon as possible. Please forgive me. I'll be making edits over the weekend, so thanks in advance for your patience. The only good news is that I've expanded this into four chapters, as opposed to the originally planned three? And I'll be sure to crank out that final chapter MUCH sooner than this one.
> 
> Another friendly reminder that I'm open to shorter prompts over at [my trash tumblr](enoki-toki.tumblr.com). Send over a message or ask and I'll see what I can do.
> 
>  
> 
> **Up next: an epic fight and epic reconciliation.**


	4. Leveling the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surviving your first big fight takes skill, stamina, just a little change in perspective.

This is unbelievable. Korra’s never had to work this hard to get Asami to talk. If anything, it’s usually the reverse. But here she is, chasing Asami Sato through the streets of Republic City. 

Asami Sato has long legs. Asami Sato is _fast._ She isn’t even running, just walking very, very quickly and Korra can barely keep up.

“Asami!  Wait!” Korra shouts. She doesn’t stop. Korra turns her jog into a full-on sprint and finally catches up to her. Breathing hard from the chase, she takes her by the arm.

“Could we please—could we please talk?”

Asami finally turns around, stares at her long and hard.

“You want to do this right here?”

Korra looks around them. They're very much in public. The streets are busy with satomobiles and pedestrians have already started to rubberneck.  

“Um, no …” 

“You want to talk so badly, why not do it here?”

This is a side to Asami she’s never seen and she doesn’t like it one bit. The cold, hard green of her eyes is so unfamiliar, it’s jarring. So Korra tries something different, maybe appealing to her pragmatic side would do the trick.

“Can we go somewhere private?  I don’t want this to end up on the front page of the papers.” 

A long moment of silence hangs in the air. “… alright.”

“Shit,” Korra curses. “I left Naga behind … did that taxi driver ditch us?”

“Looks like it,” Asami says, her one good hand resting at her hip.

Korra thinks for a minute.  “Why don’t we go to La’s Overlook?  The bay isn’t far from here.”

“I'm really not in the mood to climb up a sandy cliff,” Asami snaps.

“That’s no problem.”  Korra has an idea, but she gets the feeling it’ll just piss her off even more.  It doesn’t matter now, though, things can’t get any worse at this rate and the ocean has always had a calming effect on both of them 

Before Asami has the chance to protest, Korra bends down and loops her arms under her knees, pulling her up off the ground and into her arms at lightning-quick speed.

“Korra, what—“

Korra sweeps them up into the air with a combination of fire and airbending, flames shooting out from her feet and their bodies rocketed forth by a cyclone spinning around her midsection.

“What the hell!”  Asami screams, her hair whipping loose from its band. Korra says nothing, but feels a vice-like grip around her shoulders. She holds Asami even tighter. 

It’s nearly sundown.  They throttle through the air and below them, the streets begin to taper off until they disappear completely, replaced by sand and grass the edge ward the rocky coastline. Korra spots the high, grassy cliffs and steers them left.  They arrive at the overlook and Korra gently eases Asami down to the ground.  The shimmering waters of Yue Bay stretch out into the horizon, the gorgeous sight taunting them with its beauty. 

Asami tries to compose herself, shaking her hair out of her eyes and smoothing down ruffles on her jacket. 

“Could you maybe ask next time you decide to carry me off like that?”

Judging from the tone of her voice, she’s still angry. Korra was really hoping the ride would lighten things up a bit. 

“I thought that if we were going to fight, we might as well do it someplace beautiful?” she tries.  

Asami doesn’t bite.  “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this, Korra.”

Korra bites her lip and stares down at the ground, toeing an invisible line in the dirt.  Asami looks at her expectantly, impatiently.

“Well, we’re here now and since I have no choice, I’m listening.  What is it you want to say?” 

“I want to say I’m sorry. 

“For what? 

“For running off like that. For freaking out,” Korra says softly.

“It’s not fun, is it?”

It isn’t.  It wasn’t.  The last couple of days have been torturous.  That’s what she wants to tell her, just how miserable and guilty she feels 

“No, it isn’t. 

“Do you know how I spent the rest of that night?” Asami turns away from her, looks instead at the horizon where the sun has begun its descent. “I stayed up crying because I was so confused about what it was that I’d done to upset you.  I tried to think of reasons for why you’d left but then I got really angry because I realized that it isn’t my job to figure out your feelings for you.”

“I’m sorry.  I just want things to be okay again—”

Asami whirls around.  “That’s all I wanted that night, too, Korra. That’s why I tried to keep you from leaving.”  Shaking her head and sighing, she paces back and forth.  “When I said I needed time, I meant it.  I’m still not ready to talk, but you just couldn’t let it alone and here I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m still angry and really upset, Korra!”

“Well, you know, I wasn’t ready to talk that night, either!” she says, matching her in volume.

“ _You_ were the one who opened up the conversation!  Talking about my romantic history isn’t exactly fun for me, either, but I was willing to set aside my own discomfort it if was going to help clarify things for you.”

Korra holds up her hands.  “Wait a second—” 

“No, you wait.”  She points a finger at Korra, silencing her.  “I was perfectly fine with discussing it if you were. Instead, you just tried to make me feel bad because you didn’t know how you felt. You can’t have your moon cake and eat it, too.”

Riddled with guilt and frustration, Korra kicks a rock off the cliff, watches it drop over the edge. “That … I didn’t mean to get so upset.  I thought about it a lot and that wasn’t what was bothering me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.  I was wrong and really manhandled the whole thing. I probably shouldn't have brought it up when I was drunk ...”

She looks up at Asami, eyes pleading. 

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad and I'm sorry that I did.  Right now, I just want things to be okay again. Can we just … can things just go back to how they were?”  Right now, Korra can’t stand this feeling, can’t stand the way Asami is looking at her, can't stand the clipped and unfeeling way she's speaking to her. Like she's someone else entirely. Like they're both different people in some horrible parallel universe. 

A bitter laugh escapes Asami’s throat. “That’s not how things work.  The second you decided not to respect my need for space, you risked my judgment being clouded.”

“What do you mean?”  She doesn’t like where this is going.

“I mean that I’m still really raw and way too close to my feelings to be objective about where things stand between us.  But you made this call because you were impatient and now I’m really not sure how I feel.” 

Korra takes a step towards her. Her ears are pounding. It’s as if her heart has somehow made its way up into her head and is now thundering loudly, horribly.

“You can’t mean that. You have to understand how terrible I feel about all of this.”

“You’re not the only one who feels anything! You can’t make everything about you," she snaps. Asami takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself down.  

“Korra, I tried to get you to come back. I _begged_ you to come back.” On those last words,  her voice breaks a little.  “And I don’t do that for anyone.  Playing games like that isn’t my thing because I’m not just cut out for it.”

Asami looks away and rubs her arm, shivering slightly. “Waking up alone felt horrible.” She turns around. “And then you just show up like this. You’re impulsive — you go from hot to cold so quickly and I don’t think I can keep up with it.”

Fuck.  How did it get so bad so fast?  A burning sensation prickles behind her eyes and her face feels hot.  Try as she might, once the tears start coming, there’s no stopping them.  Embarrassed, she turns away from Asami and sits down on the grass, trying desperately to hide her face. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.  “I’m not trying to make this about me, I swear. I’ll just—just ignore me. I’ll leave you alone like I should have.”

Korra stays sitting on the ground, crying as quietly as she can. The sunset is breathtaking and the view is so unbearably beautiful, it’s almost cruel. She can’t stand to face the light, so she hides her face behind her arms.

 

\--

 

Seeing Korra like this always melts away all her other feelings. Right now, Asami can feel her anger unraveling quickly, leaving behind a stinging, aching void in her chest. Watching her cry like this, curled up into herself small and sad with her head buried in her arms, Asami is reminded that Korra is still very young 

“Korra …” she says tentatively. When she doesn’t answer, Asami steps toward her slowly, bending down until she’s sitting next to her in the grass.

“Hey,” she tries, touching her shoulder.

Korra doesn’t lift her head, sniffling into her arms. She murmurs something, but Asami can’t make out the words 

“Hey, I can’t hear you.”  Asami bites down the urge to stroke her hair.

Finally, Korra looks up and meets her eyes. Bright blue irises, helplessly open and shining with tears.

“I was saying that I was never upset with you. I was upset with me. I was mad at myself."

Asami nods, waits for her to continue. 

“That girl, Ikkuma or whatever, she was just a reminder of how long I was gone.  I missed out on getting to know you better in those three years I lost.  I feel like I missed so much.”  She sniffles loudly and wipes at her eyes with a swipe of her forearm.

“It’s just a selfish thing because I wish I could have been a part of your life during that time.  And it’s probably unhealthy, I’m sure, but I just want to know all of you.  Like _all_ of you.  Past you and the you that other people know.  Which is impossible and crazy, but still.”

This makes a lot more sense now that she’s hearing it straight from Korra’s mouth. 

“It isn’t crazy.  I get it.”  Asami leans back. Something’s quelled and calmed the maelstrom of anger and hurt that just minutes ago had been roiling inside of her.  “It is a little silly, though.  People need their secrets.”

“Yeah.”  Korra sighs, her breath shaky and slow.

“Plus, it’s a lot more interesting to write the blueprint for what’s to come.  Old plans are full of design flaws that needed fixing.  There isn't much fun in examining phased out formulas.  It isn't very productive. 

Korra breaks into laughter.

“Sorry.  I’m not a poet, I’m an engineer,” she says, smiling.  She takes Korra's hand and weaves their fingers together.

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” she says quietly. “I was just really hurt.”

“I know.  I’m—“

Asami cuts her off.  “It’s okay, you don’t have to keep apologizing. Just … don’t do that again?  Next time, you need to tell me if you want me to back off or if you need go away for a while to cool down. 

Korra nods solemnly.

“Just don’t leave like that.  Please.”

She feels Korra squeeze her hand. “I promise.”

“Good.  And I promise I won’t shut down like some unfeeling mecha. It’s a really bad defense mechanism that I built up over the years. I'm trying to work on it. I really hate talking to you like that.”

Korra leans her head onto her shoulder. “Um, I hate it, too. It’s kind of terrifying.”

“I can’t stay mad at you for very long anyway. You’re too cute.”

“Well, you’re pretty hot when you’re pissed, but that somehow makes it even more scary.” 

They both laugh. The sky has turned a deep shade of mauve, scattering cool and warm light onto the trembling surface of the sea. 

“You know,” Asami hears her say. “This is all totally Mako’s fault. 

“Huh?”

“He told me to apologize to you as soon as I could, no matter what.”

Asami snorts at this information. “Mako was probably projecting. He gave me the run around so many times I practically had to corner him to get him to admit he’d messed up.” 

“I guess we were a bunch of dummies back then,” Korra adds.  “I mean him and me. Not you.”

Laughing, Asami says, “Oh, I’m fully aware. 

“Hey, Asami? 

“Hm?”

“You’re never going to tell me why Ikkuma called you Monkey Lynx, are you?”

Asami stretches and stands to her feet. She offers Korra her good hand and helps her up.

“If you’re lucky, I might show you.”

And with that, she saunters off, leaving Korra to think on those words.

 

\--

 

They arrive at the Sato estate by nightfall. The day’s emotional rollercoaster has left them feeling a bit mentally hungover and also totally ravenous for food. They dig into a meal of takeout noodles with gusto, not even bothering to plate anything, preferring instead to eat everything straight out of the paper cartons. Afterwards, Korra asks if they can have a nightcap in the parlour room bar. 

Asami says sure, but on the condition that they not start another argument.

When they enter the parlour, Korra hops over and behind the bar. “I want to try making you a cocktail."

“I can’t say no to that,” Asami says, smiling. She leans forward onto the counter, curious to see what ingredients Korra will choose.

Korra has her back to her, hemming and hawing at the shelves and shelves of top quality liquor. Standing up on her tiptoes, she snatches a bottle of high quality soju on the highest shelf, then moves to the bottom shelf and pulls out a jar of peeled lychees soaking in syrup 

She fills an engraved, chrome shaker (crafted in Zaofu, Asami points out proudly) with ice, a generous amount of soju, and a few thick drops of lychee syrup from the jar.  Then she shakes it.  Vigorously.  For what seems like forever.

Korra then turns on the water tap and bends out a sphere of water, freezing it with a snap of her wrist, forming a crystal clear globe of ice. 

“Wow,” Asami says, admiring the sphere. “Do you know how hard it is to get that kind of clarity without clouding or bubbles?”

“I did not!”  Korra says with a wink.  She drops the sphere into a small tumbler, then frosts the glass with a tiny flick of her fingers.  Finally, she pours in the strained contents of the shaker and plops in a single piece of lychee into the glass 

“For you,” she says, sliding the drink across the bar 

Asami takes a sip.  “This is perfect. I guess if the whole Avatar thing doesn’t pan out, you can always make it as a career bartender.”

Korra laughs and leans forward across the bar, watches Asami with a twinkle in her eye.  “So, tell me about this top secret project you’ve been working on.”

“Oh, that.  Honestly, it’s kind of a frivolous pet project of mine. 

“Really?  Then why the secrecy?”

Asami rubs the rim of her glass. “We just don’t want it to get militarized.  But I don’t think it’d be of any use in battle.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.  Anyway, it’s this jetpack prototype that allows the wearer to fly for short periods of time.”

“That’s cool!” Korra exclaims. “Sort of like when firebenders can create rockets under their feet.”

Asami nods.  “Exactly. Except it’s hard to maneuver and not exactly energy efficient.  The only reason I got Future Industries involved is because the adrenaline junkie in me wanted to test it out for myself.”

Korra laughs.  “Then you got overexcited and busted yourself up.”

Asami rolls her eyes.  “I know. Anyway, I can’t really see any use for it except maybe the Air Acolytes could enjoy them at the air temples. I know you mentioned some of them can’t reach certain parts of the temple that are accessible only to airbenders.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a great idea. Except I’m sure it’d make Tenzin nervous, having acolytes rocketing around historical monuments.”

“I know, and it feels a little more showy than airbending.”  Asami takes another long sip of her drink.

“Hey, if you do end up making them, maybe we could race!”

Asami smirks. “I’d destroy you and you know it.”

“Probably.”  Korra pauses and a softness falls over her features.  “How’s your arm?”

“It’s fine.  It’ll heal in no time.”  Asami smiles. To prove her point, she pulls off the sling to free her arm, then tosses the white fabric onto the floor.

“The healers forgot about my lip, though. The emergency room was pretty full so I kind of got hurried out after they got the cast on."  She runs her tongue over a bottom lip, wincing on contact. 

Korra gently tips her chin up with her hand, examines it closely.  “I can take care of that for you, hold on.” 

She fills a small glass with water and hops over the bar and onto the stool next to Asami.  A gentle swoop of her hand bends a small globule of water from the glass. Korra cups Asami’s cheek with her other hand before applying the water to her lip.  The water glows blue and feels cool and tingly on her mouth.

“You know,” Korra says as she passes the water back and forth over the wound. “I ran into Ikkuma last night. 

Asami, unable to speak, raises her eyebrows quizzically. 

“I dragged Mako, Bolin, and Opal to Tongzhi and we found this cute little bar. I think you might like it. Actually, we all liked it. And Ikkuma’s not so bad, by the way.”

Under the soft blue glow, the skin of Asami’s lip knits itself back together, healing over and closing the split.

Korra pulls back and flicks the water back into the glass with a soft splash.  She examines her handiwork.  “All good. How does it feel?”

Asami licks her lips and purses her mouth. “Good.  Thanks.”

Korra leans back and smiles. 

“Listen, Korra …”  Asami starts.  “For the longest time, I didn’t know if you were coming back.”

“I know. 

"And this isn't me apologizing for anything, but as soon as I got your letter, I —”

Korra shakes her head and reaches over to take her hand. 

“It’s okay, really. You don’t have to say it.”

Green eyes rise to meet hers. “What you were saying earlier about history and not being a part of my life …”

“What about it?”

“Sometimes I used to think about the idea of you being with someone else.”

Korra looks confused. 

“I’d imagine running into you on the street while you were with another person.”  She looks down at their intertwined hands.  “Holding their hand and walking together.”

Asami sighs.  “I didn’t like it at all, that image. But it helped cement some of the latent feelings I was developing for you. Before, I mean.”

“I guess we’re both kind of crazy, huh? 

Silence falls between them and Korra strokes Asami’s knuckles with her fingers. She’s always loved her hands. Long and elegant, but scarred here and there with little white nicks acquired from years of working with machines and tools.

“Speaking of history, and stop me if this is weird, but …”  Korra shifts awkwardly in her seat.  “Do you think Mako is still in love with me?

“I don’t know? Now?  I’m not so sure. Years ago when you left? Maybe, I don’t know.” Asami cheeks turn pink and she bites her newly healed lip.  “Okay, I’m sorry, that’s a lie.  He was, definitely. Or at least two years ago, he was.”

Korra frowns a little as she watches Asami trip over her words. “Definitely? How do you know?”

“Okay, but don’t get mad?  We promised we wouldn’t fight tonight, right?” she fidgets.  “Around two years ago, we met up for dinner and sort of went home together.”

“What?  Asami, ew,”  Korra says, crinkling her nose.  “Also, what does that have to do with my question?”

Asami groans.  “I know, I know. Nothing really happened, anyway, we sort of started hooking up then just gave up and stopped because it felt so weird.”

“That is so awkward,” Korra says, laughing. 

“Yeah, turns out we were both hung up on the same person . It’s funny, though, because it was the same thing all over again for him, you know, being in love with you, not me.”

She looks over and sees the comically awkward grimace on Korra’s face. 

“Except that time around I actually completely understood where he was coming from and why he’d left me all those years before,” Asami says, her voice low and soft.  “He didn’t seem all that surprised when I told him I was in love with you.” 

Korra leans in closer.

“Anyway, I don’t know if he got over it or anything. We only talked about it once. Maybe he’s moved on now?”

“I hope so,” Korra breathes, inching even closer to Asami. She can see the very light line of freckles across Asami’s nose.  They usually come out only in the summer, but up close, she can make out each little speck. Her eyes travel down to her lips, shapely and soft and pink.  The healers must have removed her lipstick earlier that day.

“What are you thinking about?” Asami whispers.

Korra reaches out and runs the palm of her hand over Asami’s cheek, threads her fingers through her soft black hair.

“I’m thinking about how much I missed kissing you.” Their faces are now just a hair’s breadth apart.

Asami inhales sharply. “I was only gone for two days.”

“Too long,” Korra whispers before leaning forward and closing the distance between them.  Kissing Asami always feel like she’s doing it for the first time. The second their lips touch, a warm sensation spreads out in her chest and a tingling line of sparks travels down her spine.

Korra can hear Asami sigh into the kiss, so she pushes forward, intensifies her efforts, kissing her harder and deeper with earnest, pure want.

Soon, they’re grabbing at each other, hands fisting in fabric, pulling one other closer by the collar and lapels. Lips clashing, tongues touching, breathing hard, heavy, they pull back only to gasp for air after which they immediately resume kissing. Korra maneuvers their bodies until she has Asami pressed hard against the edge of the bar, one hand roaming up under her shirt, fingers splaying against her sides to stroke the soft skin near her ribs. 

When she feels Korra’s knee push up between her legs, Asami’s arms flail against the bar and the heavy cast of her arm swings back and knocks her cocktail glass onto the floor.  It shatters to pieces with a loud, bright crash.

Korra pulls back, startled, her chest heaving. Out of breath, she can only manage to articulate a few words.

“Are you okay? Your arm.” 

Asami grabs her by the shirt, pulling her in roughly until their bodies are pressed against each other once more. Up close, Korra can see that her pupils are blown out, deep and black and ringed in emerald. 

Asami places her hands on Korra’s hips and all but yanks her body forward.  In one fluid movement, she wraps one leg around her, presses her thigh against her hip. 

Korra feels Asami’s lips trail up the side of her neck until it’s right at her ear.  Warm and soft, her breath tickles against her skin.

“I’m not made of glass,” she breathes, her voice low, dark, and husky.  Korra feels the tip of Asami’s tongue flick around the edges of her ear until teeth catch her on her earlobe, biting down softly.  “So stop treating me like I am.” 

She doesn’t need anymore encouragement. Korra wants Asami, all of her, so without a moment of hesitation, she rushes forward and and buries her face in her neck, biting and sucking aggressively. Confident hands grab at Asami’s shirt, pulling roughly in opposite directions until the fabric tears violently apart. 

 _Yes_ , Asami thinks.  _This is what I’ve been waiting for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fast. Again, probably riddled with errors and sloppy sentences that I'll fix tomorrow. Sorry about that. I prioritized expedience over perfection because I felt I owed my readers a quicker turnaround time and also figured it'd be good to keep the momentum going, now that I'm on a roll. 
> 
> A couple of things: if Asami seems out of character to some readers, I understand. I just tried to see how she'd react in a scenario where she felt abandoned or betrayed by someone close to her. It felt right to me that she'd shut down and act coldly, especially considering how vulnerable she'd made herself to Korra. I think she was really taken aback from their initial fight and resorted to using a defense mechanism -- her character has a pretty rough history fraught with abandonment and betrayal from the people closest to her, so I tried to realistically depict how her hurt would manifest should she and Korra ever get in an explosive fight. And Korra is still Korra. She's a lot more grown-up and considerate, but she'll never lose her slightly impulsive, rash side. It's just who she is. Throw in a tiny bit of insecurity, a whole lotta love, and a few handles of alcohol and shit's bound to get weird. Uninhibited Korra is probably a lot of fun most of the time, though. 
> 
> You'll noticed that I've added one more chapter to this fic, but consider it an epilogue. And a smutty one at that.


	5. Something Scary, Something Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

Asami is fucking gorgeous. 

Korra’s always known this—even years ago when they’d first met, her beauty had been the first thing she’d noticed.  It is unbelievable that Korra can see her like this (flushed, half-naked), smell her like this (fresh, familiar, a hint of salt and spring air) touch her like this (skin soft, impossibly smooth, pliant), kiss her like this (tender, rough, full lips and slick tongue).

It’s a wonder she can control herself, hold her caresses back from the brink of bruising and keep her teeth from full-on rough biting.  But she does, hold herself back, that is, because of that damn voice nagging at the back of her mind.

Korra pries her lips from Asami’s white throat.

“Wait,” she says, panting hard.

“What?  What’s wrong?” Green eyes, heavy-lidded, search hers.  Asami is breathing hard, too.

“Are we good?  Is it okay that we’re doing this?  We were just fighting.”  She has to be sure.

Asami, flushed and flustered, smiles.  “Yeah, more than good.” 

Nimble hands pull her back in and lips seal forcefully over hers.  Korra pulls back between kisses. “Are you still mad at me?" 

Another kiss, hard and quick.  “A little.”

Korra pushes Asami back gently. “You are?”  She searches her face.  This is confusing.

Asami bites her lip, grips Korra by the collar and yanks her back in close.  A voice breathy in her ear: “Sometimes I just need to fuck it away.”  _Whoa_. “And I’ll be madder if you stop.”

Korra answers her threat by kissing her fully on the mouth.  Lips part and she pushes her tongue in desperately, presses her body hard against Asami’s into the edge of countertop.  Rather quickly, she pulls off what's left of Asami's torn shirt and tosses the scraps to the floor (she'd feel bad for ruining it if she didn't know there were fifty more of them in the owner's walk-in closet).  Then, reaching around, her fingers fumble at the clasps of Asami’s bra.  When it comes undone, she hesitates.

“Wait, your butler, is he …?”  The last thing Korra wants is to be interrupted by the estate staff.

“Who, Li?”

Asami easily shrugs out of her bra, silky straps slipping over each shoulder.  Korra can’t stop herself from staring.  She swallows hard. 

“He has a name?  Li?”

Asami leans back and gives her a teasing look.

“Are you really that interested in my butler when I’m sitting in front of you with my top off?”

“Um, good point.”

Asami’s hands are quick—they slip under the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over Korra’s head.  It falls to floor, puddling blue and white.  Korra’s so glad she doesn’t keep spare underwear at Mako and Bolin’s because not wearing a bra makes things a whole lot easier.

As hands paw at her chest, Korra glances over to the closed door and bolts it shut with a single flick of her fingers.  Right now, she’s so grateful she can metalbend.   And without another second thought, she surges forward and presses her chest against Asami’s.  They fit so perfectly together.

Winding one hand up into the tangles of long, black hair, she pulls firmly until Asami’s white throat is exposed, long and swanlike.  She presses hot, wet kisses along the graceful column of her neck, nipping and sucking.  Hands grip at her back, nails hard digging into the flesh around her spine.  Like reflex, Korra arches her body and pulls harder on Asami’s hair, bites more deeply into her neck.

“I love feeling your back muscles when you’re touching me,” Asami breathes into her ear.

She gasps and laughs a little when hands squeeze at her shoulder blades.  “Yeah?  You’re a talky one.” 

“Don’t like it?" 

“No, I love it,” she murmurs, trailing fingers down the slope of Asami’s lower back, gripping at the dimples above her waistline on either side of her spine. 

“Why don’t you try?  Tell me what you want to do to me.” Asami’s voice is low and dirty.  When she pulls away, intense green eyes stare back at her, dark and full of want.

“Um, fuck.  Everything.  I don’t even know where to start,” she replies honestly, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I do,” Asami whispers.  “I want you to make me yours.  Take me like you’ve always wanted to.” Leaning forward, skin tantalizingly close to hers, she runs the tip of her tongue in a slow circle near her jaw.  Then punctuates it with a sharp, hard bite.  “Don’t hold back." 

Korra pulls her in close for a kiss, gathers her into her arms, feels legs wrapping firmly around her waist, and stands.  Asami is light as a bird—carrying her across the room is easy. 

Gently, she lays her down on the floor, straddling between her legs. One second later and she’s ripping off Asami’s trousers, pulling off her underwear along with them in one impatient pull.  Korra pulls back to admire the sight before her.  Black hair fans out around Asami’s head, contrasting sharply with her pale, pearlescent skin. 

Korra’s eyes roam all over her body.  She can’t help herself. 

Crawling over her, she whispers, “I still can’t believe I’m allowed to touch you.  Or even look at you, really.”  She runs one hand up the leg hooked around her waist, palm traveling slowly up from calf to thigh. 

“Your legs go on forever, you know that?” 

Under her, she feels Asami slide her hands up her chest and splay over her collarbones.  Korra takes them by the wrist (swiftly, but gingerly, taking care with the injured arm) and pins them back over her head, holds them there with one hand.  With her free hand, she cups Asami’s cheek, runs a thumb over her lower lip, parted ever so slightly.

To her shock, Asami cranes her head to the side and takes her finger into her mouth, swirls a tongue over its tip.  Sucking gently, Asami looks up at Korra, eyes dusky.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Something inside of Korra snaps.  It’s all a blur, but suddenly she’s pulling Asami back up off the floor and flipping her around until they’re both on their knees and Korra’s over her, breasts pressed into her back.  One arm across her chest and collarbone, she pulls Asami upright until she’s flush against her, mouth on her neck, other hand gripped firmly on her hip.  

 _Don’t hold back._  

It’s a little hard to keep track of what happens next—it’s like she’s possessed.  It’s a lot of things, a lot of sensations.  And it’s not as though they haven’t done this before, but it feels new.  Raw and rough and animalistic.  Korra would be a little embarrassed, but it’s too late once they’ve passed the threshold.  But, Asami is on her knees and Korra, inside of her.  There’s fucking, (rhythmic and wild) and there’s biting (teeth on a keening, writhing back, corded muscles flexing along a gentle, curving spine).  It’s hands gripping hipbones and knees pressing against the backs of knees fitting crook against crook.  It’s Asami, cat-like and sensual, so open and alive under her touch.  It’s her mouth on her neck, again and again, because she can’t get enough of that spot just above the clavicle, right where the slope of her shoulder begins.  Their moans overlap, breath hitching and falling, air is sucked in harshly, cries breaking and shattering.  Words mumbled, names shouted and whispered.  

Sometimes, Korra’s just no good with words, but she’s good at showing her love in other ways.  When she pulls Asami into her lap—still connected, still inside of her, throbbing, thrusting, twisting—she tries to show her, tell her how much she wants, _needs_ her.  Because it’s all still a little scary, honestly, loving her this much.  But Korra, if nothing, is brave and Asami, whom she loves so much, is so deserving. 

So, Korra’s fucking her, but she’s also holding her and staring into her eyes because how can she not?  “Look at me,” she tells her.  And Asami does, she looks at her, and it’s magical and intense and Korra can see it in her shining green eyes: that very moment when scary becomes beautiful.   

She tells her, “You’re so beautiful.”  And even though normally she’d find it cheesy and cliché, “I love you.”  And Asami echoes her sentiment, not in words, but through her eyes and sound and touch, all at once.

And suddenly, Korra feels her coming into her hand, warm, tight, and beautiful.  They kiss, then, deep and hard.  And the kissing doesn’t stop, not even as Asami breaks all around her fingers, fluttering, throbbing hot and wet.  Hotter.

All throughout, it’s hard to tell if her lips are moving from kissing or moaning or both at once, but it feel amazing, sounds sublime, even.  During the comedown, Korra still can’t stop kissing her, like she’s drinking, _breathing_ in all of her love as it pours out of her something beautiful and honest.  When they’re both brought down to earth, it feels a lot like a sigh, like relief, like a blessing, like home.

 

\--

 

Later, when they’ve somehow made it to the bedroom (walking jelly-legged and a little bashful) and into bed, Asami lets Korra curl up into her. 

Korra tells her about the past few days, the time she spent with Mako, Bolin, and Opal, and they laugh together as she recounts some of the group’s more awkward moments.  They decide together to visit Tongzhi again, more frequently, even, and maybe with everyone else.  And of course, on some nights, date nights, it could just the two of them. 

Asami smiles and kisses Korra when she tells her about the bakery and the box of melon pastries that have probably gone bad by now.  This kind of thoughtfulness on her part is always a pleasant surprise.

And in between the laughter and the jokes, they share more thoughtful moments, ponder the advice Pema had given Korra. 

Asami brings up Korra’s past lives, observes how funny and pointless jealousy must be for the Avatar with its generations’ worth of romantic entanglements, old and new loves and everything in between. 

Korra hums into her belly as Asami plays with her hair, fingers weaving softly through short, brown locks, lingering to stroke the edge of her jaw, trace the edge of her ear. 

Asami just tells her that she’s grateful for her now, happy to know her here in this time, at this moment.  And Korra nods, her voice soft and vulnerable as she surmises that all real love must feel like this, at once new and familiar, past and present interlocking to define space and time in its own special way.  Just for them, private and constant and very real. 

For the two of them, things have never been easy.  But Asami finds that the heaviest love can sometimes be the easiest and tells Korra as much, hopes she understands.  She has faith that she does, because Korra has always understood the good fight, has always chosen the hardest path knowing full well the bounty that lays at its end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thanks for reading, everyone. Hope you enjoyed. Multi-chapter fics are _hell_ for me, so I appreciate everyone's kind words and above all, patience. I must be a masochist, though, because I have another multi-chapter fic in the works, and an AU at that (even though I usually detest AUs).
> 
> Anyway, last thoughts on Learning Curve: initially, I'd set out to explore the idea of what a queer scene in Republic City would look like. I had a lot of fun with the world-building and tried to make it as realistic as possible, both in terms of how and what it would look like in the Avatar universe, but also have some recognizable parallels with our world. Obviously, I drew a bit from personal experience and what it was like to come out for the first time in a big city. The experience can be overwhelming, confusing, but also a lot of fun. My own coming out experience occurred one hot summer in NYC back when I was 21 years old on break from college. It was intense, to say the least. Navigating queer scenes has always been a little weird for me and I've never quite felt like I ever fit in, but I've done it in a wide variety of cities across the U.S. so there's that. I'm sure a lot of people have different experiences, but I tried my best to depict a range of nightlife locales and demographics within the limits this fic.
> 
> My other main goal was to put Asami and Korra in a realistic fight and see how that would play out. Which is a bit evil, I know, but I set out to prove that while they certainly would run into typical couple-y problems, they would also find a way to survive and overcome it. I think they work really well as a pair (in so many ways, really), so it's only natural that they'd be sensitive to and adapt to one another's communication styles, ultimately finding a healthy way to resolve their issues. But no one's perfect and everyone messes up, especially the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> A few little things on the foreign terms: _Tongzhi_ is a Chinese term that has been recently reclaimed in modern slang to denote sexual orientation and gender identity that fit outside the heterosexual norm, _Ikkuma_ comes from the Inuit term for fire, and the three street names ( _Sinsa, Daechi,_ and _Irwon_ ) mentioned when Asami gives directions to the Sato mansion are all random sections of the Gangnam district in Seoul. Oh, and red canna lilies were Georgia O'Keefe's flowers of choice in many of her, um, female genitalia inspired paintings. 
> 
> One big thing I'd like to clarify: Korra is not slutshaming Asami. It'll become clear what it is that's really upsetting her in coming chapters. 
> 
> Anyway, with this fic, I really wanted to explore the concept of a queer culture existing within the Avatar universe considering the world's eastern philosophies and the fact that Republic City is bustling, modern metropolis. I also took the idea (like many other fans) of Wei being queer after that adorable scene where he pats Bolin on the cheek after being caught in his arms. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Apologies for the initial sloppiness. I tend to churn out material in a frenzy, then go back in and edit once it's all out there.
> 
> I also want to mention that I'm taking prompts and requests on my [fandom blog](http://enoki-toki.tumblr.com) if people are into that sort of thing. Just send over a message and I'll try to oblige. 
> 
> **Coming up next:** Korra wakes up with a raging hangover in Mako and Bolin's apartment and proceeds to get chewed out by both of them.


End file.
